James Winter Monroe
Nickname: Winter
"You gotta shoot 'em in the head, otherwise they just keep on coming."
Date of Birth: July 1st 1988
Age: 27
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Former Occupation:First Lieutenant of the USMC
Personality: Cold, calculated, and cunning. This unseen and coldblooded young man watches the world with sinister eyes, always watching and always waiting. This opportunistic killer stalks the street with a murderous efficiency, sticking to the shadows and moving with perfected ease through dense crowds towards the target within his sights. Winter is a wary wanderer of the city, travelling with a paranoia of being followed, eyes constantly glancing over his shoulder for any unseen forces. It's a rare occasion when Winter stops moving, even for a moment, for he is always on guard and slipping away from those who hunt the hunter. His nights, if he gets any sleep, are tormented with dark dreams of being trapped and enclosed in a small cage with hot and stuffy air suffocating him. Though he tries to be observant and aware at all times, lack of sleep makes the marine wary and drowsy at times, however, a high calorie meal is quick to recharge his energy and propel him towards his next target. The malicious hunter, precise and devious in skill and mind, suffers from acute claustrophobia and anxiety attacks when cornered and pinned down, making him wild and crazed, an unpredictable opponent.
Despite his animalistic hunting and survivalist way of life, Winter is a warm and compassionate man. Being family orientated, he cares for the young and elderly even if they aren't his own. However, the marine has authority issues and doesn't like to be bossed around by anybody. A natural born leader, he often takes on responsibilities for watching over others and getting them to safety. Winter has been known to be a defender of the weak and will fight for what he believes is right. The mature man has numerous cuts and scars on his face and body from blindly leaping into battle after being provoked. He has a short temper and a lot of muscle to back up his attitude (A big bark and a bad bite).
Despite his animalistic hunting and survivalist way of life, Winter is a warm and compassionate man. Being family orientated, he cares for the young and elderly even if they aren't his own. However, the marine has authority issues and doesn't like to be bossed around by anybody. A natural born leader, he often takes on responsibilities for watching over others and getting them to safety. Winter has been known to be a defender of the weak and will fight for what he believes is right. The mature man has numerous cuts and scars on his face and body from blindly leaping into battle after being provoked. He has a short temper and a lot of muscle to back up his attitude (A big bark and a bad bite).
Appearance: Winter is often found wearing a dirty, long, white long sleeved ribbed shirt, a pair of tan cargo pants, military issued boots, and a beanie to cover his head. Around his neck he wears a heavy silver chain and a small silver chain with his dog tags attached, however he usually had the tags tucked into his shirt. The marine is naturally tan, thanks to his Hispanic heritage (though he is not full blooded) and doesn't have to worry about sunburns. When his hair is grown out it is dark and thick, though not very curly. His eyes are deep set and a soft brown color, his defining eyebrows giving him an almost dark and sinister expression. He has a cut above his left eye, the eyebrow hair missing in a thin line towards the end of the brow. Winter also sports a cut on his upper and lower lip, a wound given to him while fighting an attacker who was armed with a knife. Along his jaw and upper lip he has a dark beginnings of a beard and mustache. Along his shoulders, chest, abdomen, and back are various tattoos. Most of which are swirling patterns, but a few like the one on his side depicts Yin and Yang fish, and another on his left wrist shows his birthday in roman numerals. All the tattoos have been done in black and none show any color or very much shading.
Weapon(s): SIG P226
Machete
Equipment:Among his supplies he has a small military pack, water bottles, and either a lighter or box of matches. The marine tries to carry only the necessities and packs light.
Apparel: Backpack, Vest, Camouflage beanie, sunglasses, tactical gloves, chain necklace, and 1 1/2" gage in each ear.
Where Winter was when the outbreak occured
"Lieutenant Monroe!" A voice roused the man from his thoughts as he finished getting dressed in uniform. Instantly he stood at attention, saluting his commanding officer. "At ease, Lieutenant." The sergeant said with a sigh, taking off his hat and tucking it under one arm as he rubbed a temple. "The whole Eastern seaboard just went down and we've lost contact with the pentagon and the white house." The commanding officer was pacing back and forth, obviously distressed with the current situation. "Sir, what are your orders?" Winter asked, voice unwavering and calm. "To gather up any civilians we can and regroup with the rest of the corps at Fort Snelling." The sergeant put his hat back on, standing in front of the Lieutenant. "I want you personally to lead the convoy, I'll stay and wait for any stragglers and meet you there." Sergeant George Westfield had told his first officer. "Yes, sir." Winter saluted him, finishing buttoning his shirt, and exited the compound where the marines had set up base. It didn't take him long to find a handful of truck drivers and civilians, getting them organized in groups of thirteen with enough rations to make the day trip to the airport. Climbing into the back bed of the leading F150 truck, Winter signaled to the other drivers and then patted the top of his own truck. The engine started up and the six vehicle convoy headed out, bouncing along the makeshift roads until they reached an abandoned freeway. Winter sat in the back of his truck, staring into a scared and dirty faces of those who were with him. Reaching into his pant pocket Winter pulled out a solid black beanie with marines embroidered on the front, pulling it on to cover his head and ears from the harsh wind.
Two hours passed without any problems, until they reached the highway, the trucks rolling to a stop. Winter hopped out of the back of his truck, walking around to the front to get a better look at the blocked highway. The pileup of cars stretched on as far as he could see, both directions impassible. But the Lieutenant knew that this highway was the fastest way to Fort snelling and they couldn't waste the time to go back and find another way around. Winter walked back to his truck, stopping at the driver's window. "Follow me, take it slow, we don't know what's hiding out there." Winter patted the hood and withdrew his pistol from where it was holstered on his belt, taking it off of safety and checking to make sure it was fully loaded. Everything after that had happened at light speed it seemed as he walked through the cars, weaving his way around them and marking a path for the trucks to follow. He had taken one misstep, one small mistake, his boot splashing in a puddle of water. Shocked, he had instantly stepped back, right into a car, his body setting off the alarm system. It was like ringing the dinner bell as the once dormant infected became provoked and stimulated, running through the lines of cars straight for Winter and his convoy. "Go back! Go back!" Winter shouted, waving at them to retreat. The man had done his best to protect those he had lead, but in the end, only a few had survived. He felt unworthy to lead and took a truck with rations out on his own...Leaving another in command.
Two hours passed without any problems, until they reached the highway, the trucks rolling to a stop. Winter hopped out of the back of his truck, walking around to the front to get a better look at the blocked highway. The pileup of cars stretched on as far as he could see, both directions impassible. But the Lieutenant knew that this highway was the fastest way to Fort snelling and they couldn't waste the time to go back and find another way around. Winter walked back to his truck, stopping at the driver's window. "Follow me, take it slow, we don't know what's hiding out there." Winter patted the hood and withdrew his pistol from where it was holstered on his belt, taking it off of safety and checking to make sure it was fully loaded. Everything after that had happened at light speed it seemed as he walked through the cars, weaving his way around them and marking a path for the trucks to follow. He had taken one misstep, one small mistake, his boot splashing in a puddle of water. Shocked, he had instantly stepped back, right into a car, his body setting off the alarm system. It was like ringing the dinner bell as the once dormant infected became provoked and stimulated, running through the lines of cars straight for Winter and his convoy. "Go back! Go back!" Winter shouted, waving at them to retreat. The man had done his best to protect those he had lead, but in the end, only a few had survived. He felt unworthy to lead and took a truck with rations out on his own...Leaving another in command.
