You are a person in a city overrun with the undead. In other words, zombies. Create your character, and try to survive.You can create two characters. If you don't want one anymore, kill them off.


Name: Samantha Wilson
Gender: Woman
Age: 24


"Shit, SHIT!" Samantha cursed, hiding behind a door holding a crowbar. There were sprinkles of blood on her white T- shirt. "How am I going to get out of this one?" She thought to herself. She peeked around the door seeing an infected man ambling around aimlessly. She thought to herself there were no worries, they were slow. " Until they see you, that is." She whispered to herself. She'd been hiding all night, her legs were cramped after being behind the door so long. She'd fallen asleep briefly, having been awakened moments ago by the groans.....

She noticed all of the infected had left, and only one remained, the fat, balding man with half of his face blown away and his teeth showing, making him look like he was grinning widely and freakishly. Samantha eased the crowbar up and walked slowly around the door, looking at him. " Hey, dumbass." She said, walking up towards him. He slowly turned around, his blue very pale eyes staring dully at her. Upon seeing her, he opened his mouth and shreiked loudly, and ran for her, snarling like a rabid dog. She swung the crowbar as hard as she could, hitting him square in the head. He dropped to the ground, groaning. She waited until she saw a pool of blood spreading from his head before she became relaxed. She'd lost her damn gun a while back, running from the infected. She'd been really on edge since then, having nothing for a weapon but the crowbar she now held in her hand.

Looking down at the dead man in disgust, she brushed the hair out of her eyes, looking around this place. A dungly old warehouse. " One down, 19,999 more to go." She said sarcastically. She started to walk towards the door to leave this place, wondering where she'd go.....

Name- Zeni Fantasm
Gender- Male
Age- 19

Ill do the post when i have time.

Name: Billy Bristol
Gender: Male
Age: 32

Billy had taken what he had goddamned pleased since this damn thing began, and he wasn't gonig to stop now. He had 100 rounds of .45 in his Tommy, the drum magazine already inserted, the first round chambered, with another 200 hanging from a belt and literally thousands back at his abode. And the sawed-off had could take anybody's damn head off twice over. So what if there a dozen of the freaks? There were tonnes of smashed flatscreens and computers on the ground inside and out of the electronics store, but it was he back he wanted. Billy'd worked in stores just like these all his life, and the top-quality stuff, the real good TVs and all the fanciest computers, were in the back.

From his temporary base above the store, Billy watched as one fell straight through the final piece of ecurity glass. A big shard of glass ent straight through its belly. It seemed profoundly unmoved. Squirming and clawing at the ground, it looked almost like a small child stuck on a floorboard. Now was as good a time as ever. Billy raised his Tommy to his shoulder, took aim, and felt the vintage weapon kick as it emitted a three round burst.

The poor dunce below's head threw up gory fireworks, bits of scalp and hair and brain matter erupting and coating the sidewalk a gory red-brown. It was still for a moment. The others, however, were visibly concentrating, straining for the direction. One looked straight at Billy and screeched. It was only a matter of time, really. The small stampede was fast, they always were.

A dozen of once-living men and womens treamed out of the store, leaping broken windows and shoving each other to the ground. Billy barel felt the kick from his weapon among the adrenaline of combat, but he saw several twitch and fall and die on the ground as the .45 rounds chewed through undead flesh. It was amazing, really, they had full holes in their skin, winows into internal organs, yet ran straight ahead. Billy was on the second floor, but he knew the front door would topple quickly, and they would be upstairs quickly. The dor below shook once, twice, thrice, and a boom shookt he building as it simply blasted off its hinges.

They were cming up the stairs, flapping, slapping feet on hard floor. A cacaphony of shrieks and growls. Billy raised his shotgun to the door.

BOOM!

The action wasn;t necessary. The trap set off perfectly, the small pressure switches under the stairs setting off packets of C-4 and blasting gel set along the staircase. It had been placed carefully - the building shuddered, and somewhere above a lamp crashed to the floor, but the building held. Another success. Billy reloaded his Tommy gun and stepped outside. There were no groans or movements. Nothing could survive that blast in such a confined space. Stepping into another apartment, he kicked out the window, stepped onto the fire escape and climbed down.

Another succesful pillage for his new abode. A stolen mansion in the affluent aprt of town. A dozen bedrooms, the same bathrooms, a self-sustaining solar generator. Billy took what he wanted.

Daniel Ricters
Gender-Male
Age-35


Quickly running into a Deserted Mini mart he headed straight for the beer coolers looking around he grabbed a random can of beer. "Damn it bastards almost got me that time" he said, after chugging the beer in one gulp he sat down reloading his combat shotgun. Noticing he only has 3 shells left for his shotgun he slammed his fist against the floor thinking how he was going to get himself out of this one. " I wonder if anyone else survived" he whispered, then rising to his feet looking around the store to see if any of the zombies followed him. Proceeding to the exit he saw a group of them standing around looking at each other as if they were trying to communicate or do something he couldn't really tell. "Well Well Well Target practice!" he shouted, he moved toward the group holding his shot gun at the ready position the zombies were alerted to his presence and began to charge at him as if he was a holiday ham.

Daniel began to fire at them blowing off limbs as he moved back into the store to give himself some room."Come on fuckers you gotta earn this meal" he shouted, 2 zombies fell to the ground as the rest continue to move toward him. Daniel dropped his shotgun and took out a machete that he had found earlier, Holding the machete at in a aggressive passive position he moved forward a bit to give himself some space to maneuver. CHOP! SLICE! SLASH! Violently Cutting his way through the group he noticed some of their blood got on his shirt but he didn't care it was either they die or he dies. Seeing the only 3 zombies left he caught his breathe trying to think how to handle this situation without getting himself bitten.

One of the Zombies makes a move but is unsuccessful as he quickly lunges forward decapitating the creature and kicks the nearest one in the gut to create some distance between the last 2. "Christ the things just don't care about their own" he said to himself, the last 2 zombies decide to charge him yet again but Daniel evade them both and slices one of the zombies Achilles heel. Watching it fall to the ground he goes over to his shotgun, picking it up and loading 2 shells he smirks as he see the last standing zombie make its way toward the downed zombie. "what the fuck is this shit" he said, the zombie began to feed on his comrade seeing this as an opportunity to
eliminate the threat blasts the head off of the hungry little beast . Watching the downed zombie squirm around on the floor he laughs to himself " you know something this was fun while it lasted but to really think you things had a chance hah!" he said to the beast, he then walked up to it and rammed his machete into its skull.

But suddenly he heard moans and groans coming from behind him " ahh shit" he said, slowly turning around he saw what looked to be about 50 more zombies snarling and snapping at him. He spotted a fire escape nearby and began to sprint toward it" well....guess this cant get any worse"

Name: Kotarue Narigwa
Gender: Male
Age: 23

about to leave from his grand suite (with a cast iron door) in the hotel he is currently residing, Kotarue sets of a small stock of explosives that he had set six doors down from his about three days ago. using the time bought by the distraction, he manages to slip out of the suite and make it to the elevator just before they went back to manning the room he was in. slowly, Kotarue pushes the button to bring the elvator down from the top floor. when the elevator gets to Kotarue, it makes the usual *ding* and as always, alerts the zombies. Kotarue quickly rushes in and pushes the close button as many times as it takes to get the door shut before the dead come. as usual, another one makes it in and Kotarue manages to blow it's head off just before it notices him. with blood and brains all over the place. Kotarue presses the button to bring the elevator to the top floor, the roof. Kotarue sits, waiting and wondering. Kotarue "When is this going to end! Everyone is probably dead by now." Kotarue gets up and pushes the stop button just before the elevator reaches the roof, cuasing it to hault vilontly. He pushes aside the top hatch of the elevator. This being a new part of his ruetine, Kotarue Pulls out a plasma cutter (used to cut up to 6 inches of metal) from under his coat. and starts to cut a hole in the roof.
When the hole is done, Katarue climbs out to the topmost part of the elevator shaft.

Looking around, Kotarue notices that none of the dead has reached the roof yet, so he hops down off the top of the elevartor shaft and sits down for a little bit to rest. While sitting Kotarue hopes there is others still out there. Then he leans his head back and falls asleep.

OOC: sorry bout this, Kotarue waers an old fasion overcoat over a black tanktop. He also wears a pair of tight fitting denim jeans that you can't see because of the overcoat covering them (it goes as far down as his heels. He wears a pair of black boots with a pocket knife in the inside of the left boot. he has gloves on, but they are more of a dark grey from the continual use of the conbat rifle he uses. hope you're okay with this

Name: Benjamin Stall
Gender: Male
Age: 30

Benjamin rode slowly through the city on a bicycle he had found. He missed his motorcycle, but it wasn't worth being eaten over. This wasn't what he was expected a zombie apocalypse would be like, he thought to himself as he stared at the quiet carnage. He always thought it would be nothing more than hunting season, that he would just load himself up with two or three swords, a couple of pistols, and a steel baton for good measure and he would be good to go. Instead, he was lucky to get out of the house with a shirt, his shoes, and a walking stick, which he held in the hand that wasn't steering the bike. He parked near the pawn shop and looked up to plan his entry. Benjamin took a deep breath, ran at the opposite wall, kicked off and caught the second floor windowsill before pulling himself up. Of course it was closed and locked. After steadying himself, he removed his shirt to wrap his hand and pounded on the window. After the third or fourth hit, the window cracked. Benjamin smiled as he reeled back for a powerful final strike, but was interrupted by a strike from the other direction. The decaying pawn shop owner shattered the glass, causing Benjamin to fly to roof of the other building with the help of more adrenaline than he thought he had in his body. He wasn't even thinking now, he was just running. As he ran, he would jump from roof to roof, but when he came to the end, he blindly jumped, but was lucky to catch a fire escape of another building. He scrambled up to be greeted by seven infected. They looked hungrily at him, but before they could begin to chase him, he had jumped down six flights of stairs and entered the building next to him. Benjamin found an open corner and tried in vain to catch his breath.