AnoNES: Apocalytica

Nathaniel Brooks woke early in the morning(as he usually did). He noticed immediately that the strange storms that had been happening had ceased. He then dressed and ventured out into the cold Wyoming forest. Brooks noticed a strange smell on the air as he moved through the woods to check his various traps for food. He came upon his first trap and noticed that an average sized doe was caught in it. Ten feet from the doe, he raised his M14 rifle to shoot the creature. All of a sudden the doe lunged at him in a last ditch attempt. He quickly shot the crazed animal. Upon his inspection of the doe he noticed that something was terribly wrong with it. It looked as though the animal was rabid.

After returning to his cabin around mid-morning, Nathaniel noticed that was an eerie darkness outside. He moved over to the table where his ham radio sat. It had stopped working recently due to the strange storms as was Nate's guess. As he picked up the receiver it turned to dust in his hand. Brooks now knew that something was happening. He went into his cellar and gathered all of his hand made traps. After setting up a perimeter around his cabin, he began to barricade the residence.
 
As I wake up, I notice that light is streaming into the store through the windows. Looks like the storm is through for the moment.

I look outside of the window, and notice that my old car is completely covered by snow. Not that it'll be able to take me anywhere anymore, but it still saddens me to see my faithful Ford Mondeo die like this.

As soon as I eat something out of the meager provisions I've found in this store, I put on my warmest clothes, pick up my rucksack and a bat I found hidden under the counter (it probably was there so that the owner or the shop assistant could defend themselves) and leave for the pharmacy at the other side of the street.

It takes me about twenty minutes or so, because there is too much snow in the street for me to go on without slipping.

I look into the pharmacy, and it also seems to be empty. I enter cautiously and call out. "Hello?"

The only answer I hear is a gutural growl. A bit like a wolf's growl, but far deeper than it. Sounds like my old Dad's growling when he got angry, but wilder. I prepare my bat. I have to confess that I wasn't exactly one of the greatest athletes at school and high school, as I liked studying more. However, if there was something no one could deny back then, was that my accuracy when holding a bat was superb: I couldn't hit it hard, but all pitchers knew that it was impossible to make the ball go past me.. Guess it must be a remnant from playing videogames.

Suddenly, a man jumps at me from behind of a cardboard advertisement of aspirins. I jump at a side and the bat connects with the man's head. It isn't enough to knock him out, but it is enough to desorient him.

I use this few seconds I've been given to look around. There are some more cardboard advertisements in the pharmacy. A wooden table with what must have been a computer (I guess this due to the form cathode ray screen, mostly) and a door that leads to the backstore.

I decide that running behind the table will give me the best short term cover, so I do so. By the moment I've jumped behind the table, the man has recovered and growls at me even harder than before.

It looks like this man is insane, because I can't find any sign that he is reasoning like a human. It's more of animal behaviour, as it looks around, seemingly trying to find the best way with which he can corner me.

This is certainly bad for me, of course. I'm not really willing to serve as someone else's dinner - not that I thought this kind of thing would ever happen - so I try not to move. I remember from The Fifteen Year Old Captain that one must not make a move in front of a predator, for their sight is great at detecting movement but is colour blind. I know this is a human, but you never know, maybe the miracle will happen.

Unfortunately, it seems that what works with lions doesn't work with humans. The man already knows where I am and seems poised to jump over the table to catch me.

The only thing that seems heavy enough to be of any use is the screen, so I pick it, disconnecting it from the computer tower. I prepare myself for the potential attack.

The attack comes soon. The man runs towards me and jumps. I step aside and throw the screen at the man's head with all my strength.

The hit breaks two things: the man's head and the screen. A small implosion happens as the vacuum in the cathode ray screen is rapidly filled with air.

For a few minutes, I don't know what to do. I think I've entered in shock. I've killed a man. Even if it was in self defence, and the man didn't behave like one, it is still killing.

When I finally recover from the shock, I start to look around the shop, intent on picking up as many things as possible from here that may help me. If the plastic thing is happening in the whole world, I guess that everything around will be royally screwed up.
 
It is the next day. It seems positve at first, as it is now only raining. Suddenly, a bishop, with a gray face, faints. The other priests and cardianals go down as well, and a few seem to throw of their caps, dropping their crucifixes. The remaining people look worried, and hurry out with food and water in their cloaks. I hurry out with them, some bread and water bottle with me. I come out to a drenched Vatican, and hurry towards the Barracks of the Swiss Guard. That should be a safe area.I run through Saint Peter's Square, in ruin, littered with dead bodies. I reach the door, drenched.
 
Henry's first sign that there was something wrong was the canoes, the plastic were gone with only some strange residue on the ground. He decided to leave the goop on the ground alone and carefully made it to the lodge.

Instead of going straight inside he thought safer on a day like today look through the windows first.

Inside all of his coworkers were wandering around the lodge, stumbling, bumping into everyone and random objects that were clearly in the way but they payed them no mind. This wasn't entirely odd, could be that someone broke out the booze, they were all horrible drunks, but the look on their faces' said a different story. There was nothing in those faces, no emotion, no intelligence, just nothing.

Henry ducked under the window, years of video games and horror movies told him exactly what this was but he didn't believe it.

"Zombie Apocalypse? Really? But what else could it be? I need to get another look."

He popped back up to get another look. As he looked around he saw something very large move in the background. "Oh please no, not him." Tom, his boss a huge muscle bound brute. Not the smartest guy, but as zombie that doesn't matter much.

As Henry scanned the room one last time his eyes locked with Tom's and then something happened that caused him to jump back. There was a change in Tom's face from the vacant stare to one of recollection and then another change which sent Henry running. He's seen that look before, it's the same look that Tom gives before devouring a burger.

"Crap, crap, crap! I need things, weapons, where do I get them? Right the tool shed."

He made it to the shed, it looked like he wasn't being followed. Maybe they couldn't figure out the door, he gave himself five minutes. He busted down the door and looked around to see what he had to work with.

"Let's see shovels, nice but not the best, axes, a little awkward in cramped spaces, machetes, there we go these will work just fine, and what's this? A crowbar, ah yes this is perfect. Now that I've got weapons I'm not sure how infectious these zombies are so I need to cover up."

He grabbed a coat, a safety mask, and some safety glasses (glass). After got himself geared up he sat there thinking of his plan of attack.

"Well going through the front door is probably suicide. The back door is going to be much better. What to do?" Just then he leaned back and hit a ladder. "What? Ah that will work."

He grabbed the ladder and set it up against the lodge. He climbed up it and went up to the nearest window to see if there was anything near it. He decided that it was safe enough and broke open the window. As he went in he saw some movement in the hallway. He got a good grip on the crowbar and looked out the hallway and some the form of someone. They were facing backwards so he couldn't see who they were. He quietly made his way out of the room, walked behind them, brought the crowbar up, and then brought it down on the base of head. It produced a sickening crack and the body dropped to the ground. He left it there and didn't want to see who it used to be.

"Ugh I'm not going to get the drop on all of them, I need something better. Wait there's that old M1 Garand in the office up here, I know it still works."

He made his way to the office without seeing any more zombies, got the gun, and made his way to the main room. He peeked out behind the corner and did a quick head count, all of the remaining eight employees were here. He made his way to the staircase hoping to take them by surprise, as he raised the rifle he got a surprise of his own.

"Hello Henry, why don't you come down here." said a very sickly and distorted voice, he was barely able to make out that it was Tom's.

"I'm sorry Tom I can't do that."

"Why not? We are having a great time here, come join us."

"You know I really can't I've got things to do."

"Order you to come down here or you're fired!"

"Well in that case I quit!"

With that he quickly lined up a shot on Tom's head. He pulled the trigger and the thing that was once Tom dropped to the ground missing something rather vital. After that all of the other zombies made a rush up the stairs and a short while they too were on the ground.

"I can't believe this is happening, just don't think about it. In any case I figure I should get rid of these bodies and then start settling in for the long haul."
 
just a lore question:

What kind of Zombies are they? Smart, able to formulate speech and stuff?

or the type of 28 days later/World War Z zombies?
 
The tree's fought the virus? That means the virus can be surmounted by certain biological things?
 
Yeah, I actually have a lot of questions since there's a ton of stuff that's ambiguous. Not that's a bad thing(leaves room open for creativity), but it seems like there could be more set in stone. What are considered plastics? What are considered electronical devices? What else would be causing the death of people besides zombies? Did this all affect the world at once or did it gradually go from region to region? How quickly does it act?

I would just feel more comfortable when writing the story if more things were explained :)
 
Notes from A survivor


...10 days, now, since we've last seen the light of electricity...

... We are not the only survivors. Not the only ones who haven't yet changed or been devoured. I suppose, in a city as large as Montreal, it's not surprising. if even 40% of the population is changed (a huge number) that means that there are maybe 10% of the population as survivors. and Some had the same good sense as us. We quickly realized our home was indefensible. Obviously, the hordes (I loath that word, honestly, it strips the changed of their humanity. obviously, now, they have none. but they were once human...) grew. it wasn't long Before the attacks grew from one to ten and so on. fortunatly, they don't come out much during the day, and are mostly content to prey and scavenge...

... Les Gallerie Du Parc were a life saver. We weren't the only ones there, actually. I mean, we hadn't seen anybody that hadn't become a zombie for days. heh, there I go, using that word. though, come to think of it, what other word could we use. well, anyway, we left for the Gallerie early in the day: though it's a 10 minute walk from our house, we figured it'd take time to create a relativly fortified position. It was dark down there. we went in through the doors near the old metro. you know what I'm talking about. well, the walk...

... There was movement down there. we panicked, a moment, i'm going to admit. but the good, healthy "Stie d'tabarnac, Y'en a d'autre qui s'ammen par c'it" told us that what was down there was a good, living Quebecois...

... There was something truly amazing down there... store grilling... fortif...
 
The zombies are ambiguous because few of you know anything about them. A couple of you have learned a couple of things that the others haven't yet, but I will tell you that the zombies go from the stereotypical walking dead to some that could be quite cunning, as smart as children, but mean as hell. I don't understand what you don't understand about plastics. All vinyl, rubber, polyurethane, etc. Does it make your life easier? If so, it probably got eaten. The trees did indeed fight it off, the same way they fight off any other infection. The ambiguity exists for creativity's sake, and I love the progress all of the characters have made so far.
EDIT: Just noticed. Not a virus, a bacteria.
 
An Analysis of the Changed

Specimen 1:
Name: Jerome Ladouceur
Age: 23 year old male
Note: Survivor, bitten on a scouting mission, looking for other survivors. Brought to my care. PTt Kept restrained, for fear of contagion. Kept in sealed off environment (or as close as I can get), again, for fear of contagion.
T from Bite:
1 hour: PT is flushed and sweating, Tachychardia, unresponsive to basic anti-infection treatment.
3 hours: PT has become unresponsive and listless. APVX0
4 hours: PT has regained Strength, but intelligence appears to be entirely gone.
1 day: PT is now one of the changed, despite treatments applied (Note: perhaps traditional anti-infection meds affected by the change too?)
Note: PT has no sense of self preservation, something which has been noticed in the rest of the changed. PT's arms are bloody, with avulsions and incisions unnoticed.
PT Responsive to Movement: will stretch in the direction of moving objects.*
PT unable to formulate conscious thought: Speech limited to low moan.
*PT able to distinguish between living and Innanimate objects


Final note: PT escaped bonds and was killed by fellow survivor, Jordy Kiggens
 
"What the hell happened?" Alexia cried out as she rushed forward into the building, the secuirty guard just behind her.

All the people in the studio was collapsed onto the floor. The secuitry guard grew pale. "Miss Marks, I think we should really, really be getting out of here...I think this may be carbon monoxide poisoning..."

Crash

"What was that?" Alexia asked as she peered around the corner. "...Direc..."

Two pairs of hand emerged from a nearby closet and quickly dragged Alexia and the secuirty guard in.

"Quiet!" John hissed. "There's a zombie apocalypse going on and you didn't realize it?"

"Zombies? You got to be kidding..."

Crash.

"Have you ever played video games before? Zombies are exactly like this!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"About few minutes ago people began collapsing...the director was the first to go...and then he awoke..."

"...and started to kill people." Finished Charles.

Crash.

"You are expecting me to believe that zombie apocalypse is happening...right now?"

"Hey," John said. "If you don't believe me why don't you go out and have a chat with the director?"

Another Crash.

"...no thanks" Alexia sighed. "So what now?"

"You wanna stay here until all the other collapsed people wakes up? No I think we need to get out of the city." John picked up a crowbar. "Luckily for me, I have the weapon of the Free Man."

Alexia nodded and handed over her baseball bat to Charlie. "Yeah John. Whatever you say. Comeon, let's go to the police department. I am sure they have some kind of plan"

The 4 survivors hurried out of the studio. As John left, he muttered under his breath.

"My god. This is just like L4D..."
 
Orpheus reached up and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. Damn this weather; if I take off my hat I freeze, if I leave it on I sweat. Just can't get a break... And with that thought he began to run; his shoes slamming against the pavement of Interstate-95 North, each step sounding like a gunshot in the silence of abandoned cars. Faster, faster, it's so relaxing. I'm almost free of it now. If I just keep running everything will be Orpheus' face hit the ground and he slid to a halt. He begins to breathe heavily as he slowly sits up and grimaces. Why did it have to be my boots that didn't disintegrate? Why couldn't it have been my running shoes. Noticing the blood on his shirt, he allows his body to fall back to the roadway. That was my last clean one! How am I supposed to impress the Lindsey this way? Some rescue I've got now.. Orpheus began to chuckle to himself and it quickly grew into crazy laughter the echoed around him; yet he couldn't stop and at last he was forced to roll onto his side to draw in rasping breathes. Then he noticed the semi-truck he had been laying at the foot of the whole time. The laughter died on his lips as he grabbed the door and hauled himself to his feet. His first impulse is to check the engine, so he opens the cab and pops the hood. Strolling over he begins to whistle. Maybe my luck is changing. At least this is something I can handle.
Of course, there's not enough here to run the thing. At least the driver should have a bed in the cab. I'll crash for a bit and maybe it's time I start that journal. He is half-way into the cab before he notices the body of the driver is still sprawled across the floor, face and body contorted. Oh ----. Pin-wheeling his arms, Orpheus manages to catch the dashboard to stop himself from falling again. I guess I'll just drag the poor guy outside. I'd rather not have him in the cab with me. He grabs the drivers arms and pulls him from the cab. unceremoniously dropping him to the ground three feet below. The body lands perfectly still; no bounce, no rolling. And then as Orpheus is turning, twitch. Did.. nah, there's no way he was sleeping. He would have woken up when I dropped him. He covered muscles in anatomy last week. uh.. uh.. could have been electricity.. or pressure change.. No, what's the third stimuli. Chemical! That's ********! What the hell would he have in his system. I'm just imagining things. I need to relax.
Orpheus climbed back into the truck and swung the door shut. Then he locked it. And the passenger side too. Then he picked the drivers Rolex up of the seat. Hey, these things really do run forever. No plastic bits I guess. Sliding the watch into his pocket, he jumps into the bed and begins to unlace his boot then pauses. Maybe I should stay alert. Something doesn't feel right. Well more than usual. I should stay ready. The canvas backpack from his garage settles at the foot of the bed and Orpheus rummages carefully through the few items he had thought to grab. Spare clothes, leather jacket, lockbox, ah! pen and ink and my journal. and my knife. Orpheus shifts into a cross-legged position, sets one of the knives from his kitchen down beside him, and loosens his father's knife on his belt, I'll come find you in DC next old man, I promise. I have to find Lindsey first. and Nicholas. And then he dips the pen into the ink and begins to write about his trip thus far...
 
In the barracks, I find a group of Swiss Guards, and look uninfected. Though ancient, they have pikes sticking out the barricades.

"Here take this face mask. We think it may help stop the spread of it."

I put it on, and watch as they piles sandbags into every entrance, then use pikes to stop zombies from climbing over them. They also have 1 man at every barricade, and more close by. I go down the stairs, where they are carring sacks of food, to the weapons room, their base of operations.

I find a couple table and chairs. I munch on a little bread and feel my pockets. A rosary, a crucifix, and a letter opener. Not much. A sip of water and I begin to explore.
 
“…and that’s when I first realized Jesus was working in my life.” the young lady on the television exclaimed happily to the smartly dressed Southern Baptist televangelist. He smiled, and began talking.

All the while, however, Vernon Goode sat on the sofa in the living room of his mom’s trailer in utter darkness, save for the flickering light of the television set in front of him. He wasn’t really paying much attention to the TV, he just had it on mostly for background noise. At the moment, his focus was on the large bong in his lap, and the marijuana he was about to light up.

He put his mouth to the rim and held his lighter, ready to start smoking. Just as he was about to strike a flame, the TV went out. He paused for a second to stare at it, hoping it would come back on. After a few seconds when it didn’t flick back on, he set the bong aside and walked across the room to the television.

He looked at it, thinking for a short moment. He tried pushing the power button, but nothing happened. He tried kicking the set and slapping the top of it. Still nothing happened. He sighed in resignation. Well, it appeared he’d have to get high with no form of visual entertainment tonight, perhaps the power company would be out soon to fix the damn problem.

He went back to the sofa and picked up the bong and lighter. As he grabbed both items, however, he realized something wasn’t right. The bong and lighter seemed to melt in his hand. Water leaked out all over the carpet and sofa, lighter fluid ran down his hand.

Swearing, he bent down to pick up the weed which had fallen to the floor now that it had nothing stable to rest on. As he picked it up, he turned around to see the TV set also melting away, or at least the plastic parts of it. He swore again, but there was nothing he could do. Resigned to his fate, he decided the only thing to do in this situation was to eat the drug, as he had no matches he couldn’t very well spark up.

As he plopped back down on the couch, the affects of the plant were starting to kick in. It wasn’t as strong as it had been when he first started years ago, in fact most of the time he almost didn’t feel anything he had built up such a strong tolerance to the drug. But this was the first time in almost a month he had been able to get his hands on any weed, so he was feeling it this time.

Even with the TV, bong, and lighter melted, he decided he would be okay after all. Maybe he’d take a nap and deal with the problems when he woke up in the morning. But first, he needed a snack. When he got up yet again to grab a bite to eat, the most horrifying sight he could think of greeted him in the kitchen: the microwave and other appliances had melted as well!

Now, how in blazes was he supposed to nuke him up some pork rinds and cheese?!
 
Pork rinds and cheese indeed. Those of you that wrote stories that didn't get a PM from me, expect one on the 18th at some point. Feel free to write without more info from me, I'll keep up with you.
 
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