NationStates Jolt Archive

Jane was tossing and turning all night. She kept having the same dream over and over again. The same thing happens every time. Jane is hiding in her yard from a giant mob that was searching for her, and all of the sudden, her best friend, Jason, walks up to her, and suddenly stabs her in the back with a dagger. At that point, she wakes up every time, gasping for air, and practically balling her eyes out. For the last few weeks, she’s been having this dream non-stop.

“What is wrong with me?” she said. “Why do I have this dream every single night? Why am I being haunted like this!” as she began to yell.

She had every right to think that. Why was she being tortured with such an awful dream? Well, Jane isn’t the only one. As a matter of fact, in her small town of Warren, many people have had all different kinds of nightmares, as if their state of mind was being affected by some dream-wielding puppet-master.

Roger, who lives a few houses down from Jane, woke up at approximately the same time that Jane did, except he had a different dream all-together. Roger was in his basement, looking for something, then all of the sudden, something attacks him, and literally started to tear at his flesh. He felt the pain of the first bite, and when he woke up, he grabbed his arm, thinking that it was bitten. Fortunately, it was only a dream. But it seemed so real to him.

“What the hell is going on around here?” yelled Roger, in a hysterical state of mind. “This isn’t right….” He began to cry. “I just want a good night sleep for once. I feel like I’m going insane!”

Unfortunately, there was one more person who felt the same. Greg lived on the other side of block. He awoke approximately 10 minutes after Roger and Jane. His nightmare was quite different though. He was in a boat, with a few of his other friends. Greg raced out into the open sea, and they continued with their party, until the boat began to drift. Greg tried to start the engine back up, but it failed. They ended up drifting into a small island. Greg and his friends walked up to the beach, and heard some weird noises, so the men went out to find what it was. Greg, Thomas, Paul, and Ramone each went into the forest to find out what was making the noises. It sounded like the groaning of someone who was about to die. After about 5 minutes, the men decided that they should turn back, but at that instant, the moaning got closer. Greg swiftly turned around to see….something all covered in blood. It looked like it was human, but it couldn’t have been. It looked dead. Or was it? The thing dashed at Greg, and bit at his neck. Its sharp teeth sank into Greg’s soft skin. He felt very faint, and as his eyes weakened. He seen the other men running, but he also heard the screaming of women. The women were left at the boat, to keep them away from the danger, but it seems that danger has found them. At that point, Greg would wake up in a similar manner as the others.

“How in the hell is this getting into my head?” said Greg. “What the hell are these things? I … don’t understand.”


The dreams would always happen once, and not again for the rest of the night, but the shock would keep them awake for a long time, giving them little time to sleep. The only way they could actually fall asleep was by either taking pills, or just being overwhelmed by their drowsiness. This continued to happen until Roger and Jane seen each other, and began to talk…

And who would have known that somehow, their dreams would be linked...

“Hey Jane, how’s it going?”

“Oh…could be better…haven’t been getting much sleep lately...” replied Roger.

“You too? Hmm…I’ve been having the same nightmare over and over, every night. It’s really messing with my mind.”

“Wow, the same thing is happening to me. I’ve been having the same nightmare every night also… That’s odd…”

“I don’t quite understand what it means though. In my dream, I’m stabbed in the back by someone, although, I guess technically, I’m not exactly sure if its actually a person with a dagger. That’s just an assumption…What’s your dream about?”

“I’m in my basement, and something comes out of nowhere and attacks me. It actually bites me in my arm. Every time I wake up, I grab my arm to make sure it is just a dream. It seems so real though.”

“There’s gotta be something up…I’d keep my eye on the news, and everything that’s happening right now if I were you.” said Jane.

They both walked away trying to think of what coincidence it made that two people were having nightmares like this. When Roger got home, he received a phone call. He was going to turn on the television, but the call was quite disturbing.

“Hello?”

“ROGER! I….nee…….he..llp….its….Gre…g… plase… come… ove…r…”

“Alright Greg, you hold on, I’ll be there immediately!” shouted Roger.

He hung up the phone and made a mad dash out to Greg’s house. Jane had seen him running out, and asked him what was going on.

Roger replied with, “Follow me.”

They both ran to Greg’s house around the block. It was quiet outside. It seemed as if all of their neighbors had gone on vacation. They arrived at Greg’s house to see blood on the door.

“What the hell is going on? Should we call the police?” as Jane began to shake.

“Before we go in, I’ll call them. It might be dangerous in there.” said Roger.

He called 911. It rang….and rang….and rang….but a message came up. It said:

[code:1:07d12a8c5c]
Everyone seek shelter, and lock the doors. They aren’t smart enough to open them. Seek shelter immediately.
[/code:1:07d12a8c5c]

“What are they talking about?” said Jane.

“I don’t know…but it doesn’t sound good. What do they mean by ‘They can’t open doors’. It sounds like they’re talking about some sort of wild animal.” replied Roger.

“Let’s go in. If we wait any longer…Greg….”

“You’re right, let’s get in there.”

Both Roger and Jane walked into the house. There was blood everywhere. It seemed as if there was some sort of struggle here. Roger lead the way, and slowly walked into the kitchen, which was the first room that you would walk into. Roger grabbed a couple knives, and handed one to Jane.

“You never know what could have happened. We’d better be safe about this.”

Roger and Jane continued to walk through Greg’s house very slowly, walking into the living room. Nothing was here. They walked into the hallway that leaded to the bedrooms and bathroom. Roger kicked the door open to the first bedroom. Nothing was there either. Jane also kicked the door open to the other, master bedroom, and it was empty as well. They both nodded and slowly opened the door to the bathroom, and the sight that they seen would haunt them forever...

Anyone interested? You can bring a new character, in a close proximity to Roger and Jane.

tag

(Will wait until more is revealed)

Tom roamed around his empty house. It was strange to come home to a completely empty house. Usually his sisters would be home from primary school, and mum was almost always here when he got home from school.

Tom had also heard some strange noises from the house next door. Greg's house. He wasn't quite sure what it meant, but it couldn't be good. Already on edge from the constant nightmares that had plagued him over the last few days, Tom grabbed a baseball bat, just in case.

One last sweep of the house found nothing. No notes, or trace of anyone. Tom was starting to freak out, this was weird. Looking out the window, Tom saw two other kids from his school enter Greg's house. He couldn't quite remember their names, but he thought they were ok.

Stepping outside, baseball bat still in hand, Tom made his way through the front door of Greg's house. The first thing to grab his attention was the blood. So much blood. The stench of it filled the air, confirming it was real.

Tom warily continued until he reached the hall. He could hear others in one of the rooms, probably the two that entered before. Quickly making his way toward the room, Tom froze.

Tagification untill later.

-tag-
(Once it is revealed what's attacking, zombies I presume, I'll introduce a character. I love survival horror.)

TAG


i´ll join when it´s more uncovered

As the door slowly opened, they heard groans...terrible groans. That alone would give anyone nightmares for a week, but what they seen would stay in their minds forever. Some sort of human...but it wasn't alive...or was it? It looked dead...but wait...

"GREG!!" shouted Jane.

"No!" whispered Roger. "Be quiet!"

It was too late. The zombie that was eating Greg alive, turned and looked straight into Jane's eyes. At that moment, he dropped Greg and dashed towards the door. Roger quickly shut the door in time, but this zombie had some sort of increased strength, as the door almost broke down when the zombie hit it with all of its might. Roger and Jane made a run for it out the door, but to their avail, 3 more zombies were out on the street looking for more prey. To their luck though, they didn't see them, and Roger and Jane ran all the way to Roger's house, locked the doors, and tried to figure out what to do..

"Let's turn on the t.v." suggested Roger.

"Good idea."

At once, the news showed glimpses of other cities, destroyed. Los Angeles, Sacremento, Anaheim, and their own city, Warren. Buildings on fire...gangs of zombies tearing unfortunate humans apart. It was sickening. It was as if the world was going to end.

Was it?

The moon was filtering through the blinds of the apartment, making the room filled with the rays of glaring and harsh eye which hung within that black blanket. The stars were sleepy, flickering like some broken lamp in the middle of a street. Vincent looked up through the window, which had the frosty cover of winter over it, and he saw very little through the fog of the window's veil. Vincent got the sleeve of his jacket and wiped it, but the frost was on the outside of the window.

Leaving the window alone, and the moon to itself, Vincent sat back down. He did not want to open a window, it was too damn cold. The central heating was not working for some reason, and the electricity was dead. It was unusally quiet, as if the entire city had fallen asleep and Vincent was the only one awake to have the shadow's company.

He pulled his leather jacket around him closer, and rubbed his gloved hands. It did not do much to ward away the cold of this night. He was sitting upon his leather chair, spinning slightly. Reaching for the bottle of whisky, he poured some into the small glass he had upon the desk, where his feet were currently planted.

He drank it in one gulp, feeling it warm his body, as the last three had done. He played with the glass in his gloved hand, watching how the moonlight played with the glass. Vincent was thinking about many things. What had recently happened with him and his girlfreind. Why she had left him. Why he was currently out of work. Why he was completely broke.

So many whys. So many whys.

Vincent, suddenly, without warning to the glass or the wall, threw the glass at the wall. The glass offered no resistance, and shattered into a countless little pieces upon the floor. The moon's gaze was upon them, and the area where the glass had been shattered now had a pattern of moonlight upon it. Vincent looked at it morbidly, and then sprang into action.

He walked out of the room and got his coat. Vincent needed to go outside, even if it was damn cold.

Gabe fell to the ground. His baseball bat was all that was keeping this person off of him. He was wondering if it was a person, it smelled dead. The thing broke into his apartment and attacked him.

Now he was rolling on the ground with the thing. It was trying to get at him, but his bat was shoved into its throat, keeping its slavering jaws back. He brought up one leg and gave a hard kick. The thing flew backwards, shattered through a window and fell with a sickening crack onto the stone fence around his apartment block 4 stories down. It wasn't moving.

Gabe went to his closet, and took out the revolver his dad had given him for his 18th birthday. Thanks dad. He smiled, feeling much better with the cold steel in his hands. He went back and looked out the shattered window.

It was gone! The thing wasn't where it had layed before. He looked down the street, and saw several more figures walking slowly along the street. He spotted his attacker, dragging itself along, obviously with a broken back.

He got dressed, put on his leather jacket, and headed downstairs. Along the way, he found more broken down doors, and the scenes within them were too gruesome to mention.

He came to a door belonging to a friend of his. Real gun nut. He'd have some more firepower. He knocked, but no answer. He kicked the door in the sweet spot right on the lock, and it broke open. His friend wasn't here. Neither were any of his guns.

He looked around the apartment, finding signs of a sudden and hasty exit. He found a hunting rifle under the bed, with a note attached.

Gabe,
I thought you might come looking for me, but I've skipped town. These things are everywhere. Everythings going to hell. I've left this gun for you, in case you made it here alive looking for me. Good luck.
-Nick

Gabe threw down the letter, and picked up the three boxes of ammo Nick had left with the rifle. He put the rifles slinged around his shoulder, and headed out into the chaotic, bloodfilled night.

"What are we going to do?" said Roger frantically.

"I don't know...we're screwed..." sighed Jane.

"No, don't say that. We're the United States. I'm sure we can handle this. We can handle everything..." replied Roger.

"Stop! Look at the t.v.! Does it look like we're handling it? No! If we don't stop it here, the rest of the world won't stand a chance. So far, its only in California, but no doubt, it will cross into Nevada, Washington, and eventually into Mexico and Canada. How did this happen?" questioned Jane.

That question is one that no one knew the answer to. Who started it? Who in their right mind would let this loose? They have the guilt of knowing that they mayt destroy the known world...

"Well I that I know is we need to get the hell out of here. Eventually, they'll find us. We have better chances out there then giving up and dying here. We need to get to your car as quickly as possible without them seeing us." said Jane. "Is your car in the garage?"

"No," he answered. "It's in the driveway. We're gonna have to sneak out there."

"May God help us all.." cried Jane.

Tag :twisted:

Tom had no time to react as Roger and Jane bolted out of the room, down the hallway and out of the house. Tom turned his head to see a crazed looking guy leap at him, jaw open and dripping saliva. By pure reflex, Tom brought the bat swinging around and collided it with the guy's head.

Crack........ The sound of his head being smashed in echoed through the hallway. Tom didn't have time to fully take in what he had just done as the guy began to twitch and try to get up. Now he was really freaked out, Tom gave the guy one more whack and got out of there.

Not looking back, Tom bolted out the front door to find more of these weird looking guys. Cursing whatever the hell they were, Tom decided he needed to join up with the others. He knew that guy.... Roger lived nearby. Best to head over there. Gripping his baseball bat tightly, Tom began to run.

Vincent walked accross the streets, making sure not to slip on the thin layer of ice in places. Every footstep of his clicked, from the steel caps on his shoes. There was something about clicking everywhere which appealed to Vincent, a certain kind of confidance boost and an impression left on people by this person clickig away. Kind of like an ego boost, Vincent thought.

He had his gloved hands in his pocket, his leather jacket tight around his body. His mind was turning the cogs of thought, thinking of many things.

He was currently walking through a small bit of neighborhood which he did not know. Well, he did not know much of this place, he had only recently moved in. Hee did not care, he could easily get a bus or a cab back home. Vincent reminded himself of his financal situation, and reached in for his wallet and opened it up. The contents were pathetic, a few coins and dollars, But within one of the flaps, there were a few pictures.

A picture of her.
A picture of them together.

Vincent looked at the pictures in turn, and then again, remembering the moments they had shared. And what he had lost too stupidly. Vincent sighed, and behind him, a moan came. It had a gutteral quality, one which was animalistic.

Vincent turned very slowly,placing the wallet back into his pocket. He was looking through the gloom. After a few seconds, Vincent said, "Anyone there....you need any help?"

No reply, but the rushing of the wind.

Vincent looked around. There was no-one nearby. Come to think of it, he had not seen anyone for a long while....if at all. Vincent blamed it on some kind of party or event he did not know about....or maybe the people around here did nto like going out at night.

Vincent, after a short while, shrugged and turned around slowly. And then, another maon eminated nearby, which turned Vincent into a pillar once more, frozen in place. Vincent span around looking for whoever was in trouble. But the moan was more of a snarl or some kind. Thinking that it was simply a dog or something, Vincent walked away along the paths....


But that certainly was no dog, but Vincent wanted a reasonable and rational explanation.

At one moment, Jane and Roger both stared at each other, with so much innocence and hope....they both wondered if they would survive....if humanity itself would survive. Or would it die away? No one knew at this point. There was never an easy answer. Jane and Roger both nodded, and hugged each other. Who knows, they might not even make it to the car, but they'll try their best.

"Let's go!" shouted Jane.

They dashed outside to see only a few creatures in the distance, but no immediate threat. But all of the sudden, they seen someone running towards them. They had no time to see if it was a zombie or not, so Roger pulled out his pistol that he had picked up at his house and aimed it at whoever it was.

"Wait! I think its one of our neighbors! He looks like he's alive.....err....well...he doesn't look like he died yet." shrugged Jane.

Gabe fired, taking off the top of the head of a fiend coming at him. The body fell over, spreading gore across the street. He heard a moan, and looked down. It was the one he kicked out the window. He decided not to waste ammo, and stomped on it's head with all of his force. After the fourth stomp, there was a crunch noise as the skull caved, crushing the skull. He looked around the street, and aside from a burning car a block down, there was nothing.

He decided to start walking. If those things came at him, he'd shoot them. He had to find ammo, or other people. He knew where there was a pawn shop, and headed in that direction. They'd have a gun there.

(Gabe is a few blocks from Jane and Roger.)

Tom continued to run, fleeing from at least two creatures when he finally noticed Jane and Roger. To his utter horror, Roger raised his pistol upon him and was ready to fire. Before he could yell out, Jane stopped him. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Tom stopped in front of the pair, puffing and panting.

"It's me..... Tom. I go...... to school.... with you...... guys......."

Leaning on his baseball bat, covered in sweat and a little blood, Tom was a mess. His black hair hung down over his eyes as he looked at the others.

"Any idea what's going on around here?"

Vincent continued to click through the streets, his ind still jittery from the moans. Still, just some dumb dog. Or some kids. Vincent did not know when Halloween was....he would expect to see a lot more kids running around and screaming with costumes and candy.....well....he woudl expect more people on any day. This place was totally deserted!

Vincent called out into the long lonesome night.

"Hello? Anyone out here? Why the fuck is non-one about?"

He was frustrated and he did not know why. Proberbly the insecurity of the moment, that he did not know what was going on. He had not heard any traffic or any signs of life.

He looked around. Drums with flames still licking from them, where the homeless would have gathered for warmth. But they were there no longer.

And then, a reply to Vincent's cry. A moan, which seemed to fill Vincent with molten lead. Not hot lead, but the cold flowing of fear and uncertainty.

He turned slowly, and saw a walking body of rotting flesh, blood and posession. Vincent recoiled from the sight as it crawled patheticly towards him. It seemed to be deformed, it's legs buckled as it crawled through the street pavements.

Vincent ran away from the creature, in a state of panic. Countless explainations ran through his mind, all futile in what reality presented as the standard. Yet, zombies was hardly your normal explainable situation!

Running away, Vincent did not know where the hell to go. THe cops? No, he was already wanted by them, and considering the story he would tell, however truthful, they would consider him a nut. Hell, Vincent was begining to believe himself as really being a nut!

And then he heard the voices of people...teenagers it seemed. It was a start, far better than the moans of zombies. He heard them talking.

"Any idea what's going on around here?"

Vincent ran in, hisbreath rather ragged and he said rather loudly and rudely, "Well I was hoping you explain that one to me! What the fuck are those things?"

OOC: It's Euroslavia.

My apologies. I won't be on NS for a while...but I will t-gram everyone when I'm back, so if you'd like, we can continue this RP.

OOC: Ok then. I'd definitely like to continue.

A floor or so above Gabe's apartment, Dekker Bray awoke to a pounding on his front door...

'Damn Jevohav's Witnesses, always wakin' my ass up in the middle of the night...'

Groggily, he opened the door... His guest wasn't a religious alm-seeker, but rather a seeker of something else... Dekker's flesh. The thing dove at him, but by reflex or pure luck, Dekker got out of the way. The 39-year-old ex-Navy SEAL swiftly grabbed the humanoid by the chin & top of the skull, twisting sharply with all of his 283 lbs. A wet, popping crack echoed through the apartment complex hallway... Dekker now stood face-to-face with his assailant, but his unwelcome guest still had his back to Dekker...

With something between a growl & a groan of anger at what was to come, Dekker threw the corpse out into the hallway. Ever the gun-nut, Dekker pulled his old footlocker out from under his bed, still bearing a faded 'BRAY' across the lid. It had been a while since he'd been in combat, nearly a decade since he'd retired. He'd kept himself in good shape, working as a police patrolman for the past three years. Fate obviously had a sense of irony. Dekker dressed in a pair of fatigue-like pants, complete with cargo pockets, along with a grey T-shirt that was a size too small. His final accessory was his duty boots, a pair of size thirteen Magnums with steel toes. Dekker buckled the duty belt from his day job around his waist, it had what he'd need to get out of town.

The footlocker contained an assortment of handguns & ammunition, most notable among them where Dekker's old .45 Hardballer & one of the newer FiveseveN-model armor piercing handguns. Quickly, he stuffed the seven weapons into a duffel bag, along with enough ammo to supply his department for a week. Bag on his shoulder & .40 caliber Glock drawn, Dekker grabbed the keys to his squad car & headed for the elevator.

The parking lot was a mess, filled with smoking cars & half-eaten bodies. Dekker had seen men blown apart by RPG's, landmines, and assorted grenades, but those things paled in comparison to the carnage caused by something literally tearing pieces out of a person. He got inside his department-loaned vehicle & locked the doors, then headed off down the street. He'd head to the local pawn shop, he'd need something with more firepower if he was going to survive more than ten minutes against more than five of these walking maggot-farms. Something told him others might have the same idea...

This gave a whole new meaning to the phrase 'Graveyard Shift'...