SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS for Zombies, Run! missions 9 and 19.
1. Improperly prioritize.
The zoms have her now; she's nearly gagging on the stench of old blood and shit and flesh. Sam's screaming desperately in her ears, nearly drowned out by all of their moaning, which itself is barely audible over the breath heaving in her chest. She still has one last option, and though she's never liked it, it's either that or be dragged into the horde.
So she tosses the Demons & Darkness 4th Edition Core Rulebook over her shoulder. There's a loud WHUMP and several groans that sound something close to confused, and she's almost inclined to turn around and see if she took out the one with the doofy glasses. No time for that, though--she thinks she pack is slowing, or at least getting less loud.
Maxine and Sam congratulate her and sigh in relief. It lasts about a second before they realize what she threw.
Of course, they're still glad she's alive and everything. But there's a subtle note of disappointment in Maxine's voice, and Sam asks why she couldn't have dropped a sports bra or something.
2. Forget the rules of gun safety.
The two of them are coming back from a decoy mission, all smiles and laughter and arms slung over each others' shoulders. Sara says something lighthearted about the zombies that Five doesn't quite catch, but she finds herself caught up in giggles anyway. Today was a good day, because she didn't even need the pistol in her hand, and she's not feeling any ill effects from her adrenaline rush just yet.
They're almost at the gates when Five steps away to make an excited gesture, and one finger twitches in a way it shouldn't. There's a loud CRACK, almost like fireworks, and Sara makes this strange sort of "oh" noise.
Neither of them really process what's happened until Sara crumples like a marionette with cut strings, staring at Five with something akin to betrayal in her eyes. Oh god, Five whispers, and the gun drops from her shaking hand. For a second she can't even remember how to shout for help, just keeps mouthing apologies while Janine demands to know what the hell happened, Five?
3. Stop running.
She's focused on two things: the red light in the distance, and Sam's voice. Just keep running is playing over and over in her mind, and everything else is a haze blurring into the night around her. She can hear the moaning of approaching zombies, but it seems so far away compared to Sam talking endlessly at nothing.
He wonders aloud who will remember her, and her foot catches on a rock jutting out of the ground, and she goes tumbling headfirst into the dirt.
As Sam goes on, she tries to collect herself, with her limbs splayed at awkward angles and her mouth tasting like blood. Her eyes go wide as she realizes she can't get up, something's got her ankle, and she turns her head--
--it's a damned crawler, practically howling as it clutches her leg with a grip like a vise. Frantic, she attempts to tug herself away, but its rotting fingers dig into her skin the more she tries. The zombie pulls itself forward with its other hand, mouth hanging open, dead eyes staring into hers.
Sam pauses. She can hear more coming. She can't see them, but they must be close.
"Remember me," she gasps into her headset, even though she knows he can't hear a word she says. "Please. I'm sorry, Sam. I never wanted, I never..."
4. Kill them all.
They tell her zombies have entered through the back door. She hears them stumbling around in what's probably the kitchen, all groaning over each other. At least ten, she guesses, which means there'll be more. He once told her about the critical mass of a horde, how they inevitably draw others to them at that point.
His breathing wheezes and rattles in her ears, then collapses into another bout of desperate coughing. She thinks she heard him try to say something, something about her, and it's in this moment that something sparks in her mind.
It's easy to forget that six months ago, this was a happy home. It's easy to think that the envelope lying on the table is the only thing important here, but--but this place now feels like hallowed ground, a piece of days gone by. All of a sudden, the mere thought of the zombies setting foot in this house stirs up old anger. White-hot rage and resentment flares in her chest; the mask of resigned determination she's been wearing cracks and splinters.
A violin's been haphazardly placed against the wall, its surface and strings spattered with gore. She takes it by the neck and turns to the kitchen, even though some part of her knows she can't herd them like he did, knows that there are far too many and there will be so many more.
Before anyone can ask what she's doing, she turns off her headset.
5. Never manage to start.
No one is coming to help them.
She stopped trying to move a while ago. There's no way she'd be able to make it to the township like this, shrapnel digging into every inch of her skin, legs twisted in directions they aren't meant to go. The supplies are scattered just a few feet away, out of reach, taunting them. The pilot hasn't said a word since they crashed and their radio cut out, but she's still breathing, raggedly.
"I wish it were like the movies," she says, and lets out a bitter laugh.
The pilot shifts slightly, then stifles a cry of pain. She's trapped in her seat, held there by the belts that supposedly make things safer.
"Because we wouldn't have to wait if this was a movie."
She draws in a shaky breath, and listens. The faint sound of low groaning drops a cold weight in her stomach. She knew they'd come, because they're attracted to noise, but she isn't sure whether it's worse to slowly bleed out or become one of them.
"I... I never asked your name," she says, trying to forget for now.
There's no answer for a while. The moaning doesn't get any quieter, but she doesn't hear it getting louder either. The pilot exhales, a long, slow sigh. "...Naomi. It's Naomi."
"Hi, Naomi." She tries to smile, even though no one's around to see it. "I'm Quinn."
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Five Things Runner Five Fortunately Never Did
Labels:
drama,
fanfiction,
five things,
humor,
post-apocalyptic,
tragedy,
writing,
zombies run
there was a little girl
Here, have another thing? This is part of a series I
was doing a couple years ago, and I’m thinking of getting back into it
because it had some sort of coherency. Starship science fiction, Tales
from the Monomyth. It’s not really finished, but I think it’s good
enough to post. Or I don’t, but I should anyway.
(crossposted from Tumblr)
——
My eyes are open but it’s too dark to see. I cannot tell where I am, or what the size of the room I am in is. I am sitting in a chair. It is cold and hard against my body and there are cuffs fixed into place around my arms and ankles. There is someone standing behind me - I know this because I can feel two hands in metal gauntlets at the back of my neck. I know why this person is here and it makes me want to shiver, but moving will not help anything.
“Ari.”
The person who said my name is not the person who stands behind me. I hear her footsteps on the floor. She is pacing. I would guess that the floor is made of concrete; it echoes like concrete. I can hear her footsteps all the time. Sometimes she’s close, sometimes she’s farther away. She is wearing boots padded with metal. Like mine.
“Tell me why you’re here,” she says. Her voice is cold, sharp, and clear. I think about the ice on puddles in winter.
I swallow hard and feel the metal hands pushing on the back of my neck. “Because you brought me here.”
As soon as I speak the answer, I know it’s wrong. It’s true, but it’s wrong. It isn’t what she wanted me to say, isn’t what she wanted to hear. Her footsteps get faster in the background as she paces and paces. I feel the metal fingers creep around my throat and I can’t breathe. They’re not choking me but I can’t breathe. My heart is not supposed to go this fast and I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.
I hear the footsteps in front of me now. I can’t see the woman they belong to. I try to imagine her and she is all shadows and light, black hair on white skin in my mind. I think maybe I have seen her before but I can’t remember.
“Tell me why you’re here.”
I try to forget the metal fingers and take one deep breath. The air smells stale. “Because of what I did.”
“Yes, and what did you do?” Her footsteps get slower until she is walking like the ticking of a clock. I think this is a good thing. “Tell me what you did, Ari.”
I don’t want to say it, but I think about the metal fingers and what they will do if I don’t answer. “I killed the scientists at the 36-B Morena Research Facility.” My voice comes out quiet and shaky.
The answer is too clear in my mind. I feel sick but I am not allowed to move. I close my eyes even though nothing looks different.
“How did you kill them?” I think she sounds pleased. Maybe because I answered that question right the first time. I imagine she has painted her lips, a flash of red against the shadows and light, red curling into a twisted smile set in her white face.
“I made myself look like a visiting student.” I remember gently sliding the sleeves of the white coat off the arms of the dead girl, the dead girl who was as small as I was. I put her into a sitting position against the brick wall of the alley and folded her hands in her lap. I took her glasses because they weren’t the kind that make you see better. I did not take her name tag because she did not look like me. I would pretend I had lost mine. Then I went to the facility. “A man let me in and I told them I was new. I told them my records had gotten lost. They made me new papers with my fake information and over the next few days I poisoned them.”
“Tell me how you poisoned them, Ari. Tell me.” The footsteps have stopped somewhere in front of me. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I think she has leaned in very close. I hear her breathing.
“I used the Violet Beta 23 compound that was made here. I used it because I made myself immune.” I remember taking small dosages of the paste, dosages that they swore wouldn’t kill me. I do not remember shivering and screaming and vomiting but they told me it happened. I took them until they told me I wasn’t getting sick anymore and that I needed to take larger amounts. It went on like this for a very long time until they told me I would be safe from it forever. “I put it in their food - very little, so they wouldn’t notice.” Violet Beta 23 is bitter and I swear I can taste it on my tongue right now. “And I smeared it on the doorknobs and their workstations so it would soak through their skin. Most of them wore gloves but it worked anyway.”
“And what happened to them after that, Ari?” She sounds excited. I am afraid of her but I am not supposed to show any fear.
“It was slow. They thought they were sick at first, and that there must have been something going around the facility. The number of people who came to work slowly dropped until it was only me.” I remember taking a walk through the empty building, expecting to hear people who thought I was one of them say hello to me, but no one did. Sometimes I played with the animals in the cages because Violet Beta 23 is only poisonous to humans. I am not sure why the scientists kept them because they never did experiments on them. “I read newspapers and called houses until I knew everyone was dead. I checked their names off on a list I made and then I left.”
In the dark I imagine her smile. White teeth behind red lips. I think her eyes are dark and that they are shining. “Tell me why you did it, Ari. Tell me why you killed them all.”
“Because I was ordered to,” I say, and my spine freezes because I know I have just said the wrong answer again. The metal fingers get tight around my throat and I want to scream. I want to scream but instead I gasp, “Because they all deserved to die.”
I do not believe it. I do not believe it because the scientists told me they were trying to help people and they were all very nice to me, but it is the right answer. I know it is right because the metal fingers leave my neck.
I imagine the woman smiling. “You’re learning fast, Ari.” She takes her hand off my shoulder. I hear the clicking and sliding of a mechanism and then the restraints around my arms and ankles are gone. She takes my hand. Her fingers are thin and smooth and she helps me stand. I feel stiff and sore but I know better than to complain.
(crossposted from Tumblr)
——
My eyes are open but it’s too dark to see. I cannot tell where I am, or what the size of the room I am in is. I am sitting in a chair. It is cold and hard against my body and there are cuffs fixed into place around my arms and ankles. There is someone standing behind me - I know this because I can feel two hands in metal gauntlets at the back of my neck. I know why this person is here and it makes me want to shiver, but moving will not help anything.
“Ari.”
The person who said my name is not the person who stands behind me. I hear her footsteps on the floor. She is pacing. I would guess that the floor is made of concrete; it echoes like concrete. I can hear her footsteps all the time. Sometimes she’s close, sometimes she’s farther away. She is wearing boots padded with metal. Like mine.
“Tell me why you’re here,” she says. Her voice is cold, sharp, and clear. I think about the ice on puddles in winter.
I swallow hard and feel the metal hands pushing on the back of my neck. “Because you brought me here.”
As soon as I speak the answer, I know it’s wrong. It’s true, but it’s wrong. It isn’t what she wanted me to say, isn’t what she wanted to hear. Her footsteps get faster in the background as she paces and paces. I feel the metal fingers creep around my throat and I can’t breathe. They’re not choking me but I can’t breathe. My heart is not supposed to go this fast and I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.
I hear the footsteps in front of me now. I can’t see the woman they belong to. I try to imagine her and she is all shadows and light, black hair on white skin in my mind. I think maybe I have seen her before but I can’t remember.
“Tell me why you’re here.”
I try to forget the metal fingers and take one deep breath. The air smells stale. “Because of what I did.”
“Yes, and what did you do?” Her footsteps get slower until she is walking like the ticking of a clock. I think this is a good thing. “Tell me what you did, Ari.”
I don’t want to say it, but I think about the metal fingers and what they will do if I don’t answer. “I killed the scientists at the 36-B Morena Research Facility.” My voice comes out quiet and shaky.
The answer is too clear in my mind. I feel sick but I am not allowed to move. I close my eyes even though nothing looks different.
“How did you kill them?” I think she sounds pleased. Maybe because I answered that question right the first time. I imagine she has painted her lips, a flash of red against the shadows and light, red curling into a twisted smile set in her white face.
“I made myself look like a visiting student.” I remember gently sliding the sleeves of the white coat off the arms of the dead girl, the dead girl who was as small as I was. I put her into a sitting position against the brick wall of the alley and folded her hands in her lap. I took her glasses because they weren’t the kind that make you see better. I did not take her name tag because she did not look like me. I would pretend I had lost mine. Then I went to the facility. “A man let me in and I told them I was new. I told them my records had gotten lost. They made me new papers with my fake information and over the next few days I poisoned them.”
“Tell me how you poisoned them, Ari. Tell me.” The footsteps have stopped somewhere in front of me. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I think she has leaned in very close. I hear her breathing.
“I used the Violet Beta 23 compound that was made here. I used it because I made myself immune.” I remember taking small dosages of the paste, dosages that they swore wouldn’t kill me. I do not remember shivering and screaming and vomiting but they told me it happened. I took them until they told me I wasn’t getting sick anymore and that I needed to take larger amounts. It went on like this for a very long time until they told me I would be safe from it forever. “I put it in their food - very little, so they wouldn’t notice.” Violet Beta 23 is bitter and I swear I can taste it on my tongue right now. “And I smeared it on the doorknobs and their workstations so it would soak through their skin. Most of them wore gloves but it worked anyway.”
“And what happened to them after that, Ari?” She sounds excited. I am afraid of her but I am not supposed to show any fear.
“It was slow. They thought they were sick at first, and that there must have been something going around the facility. The number of people who came to work slowly dropped until it was only me.” I remember taking a walk through the empty building, expecting to hear people who thought I was one of them say hello to me, but no one did. Sometimes I played with the animals in the cages because Violet Beta 23 is only poisonous to humans. I am not sure why the scientists kept them because they never did experiments on them. “I read newspapers and called houses until I knew everyone was dead. I checked their names off on a list I made and then I left.”
In the dark I imagine her smile. White teeth behind red lips. I think her eyes are dark and that they are shining. “Tell me why you did it, Ari. Tell me why you killed them all.”
“Because I was ordered to,” I say, and my spine freezes because I know I have just said the wrong answer again. The metal fingers get tight around my throat and I want to scream. I want to scream but instead I gasp, “Because they all deserved to die.”
I do not believe it. I do not believe it because the scientists told me they were trying to help people and they were all very nice to me, but it is the right answer. I know it is right because the metal fingers leave my neck.
I imagine the woman smiling. “You’re learning fast, Ari.” She takes her hand off my shoulder. I hear the clicking and sliding of a mechanism and then the restraints around my arms and ankles are gone. She takes my hand. Her fingers are thin and smooth and she helps me stand. I feel stiff and sore but I know better than to complain.
Labels:
drama,
experimental,
science fiction,
tales from the monomyth,
writing
all gifts
THE PEOPLE IN THE ZR CHAT TOLD ME TO POST A THING SO I’M POSTING A THING
I wrote this months ago and never finished it. It’s based on the Gauldur Amulet questline from Skyrim, but I don’t know whether or not to call it fanfiction because who really knows about the Gauldur brothers and what is canon even.
Still unfinished but I SAID I WOULD POST A THING.
-x-
When whispers of the ancient legend made their way to her ears, we looked upon the world in dismay. For even though old stories never die, most turn away from those who tell them. But her heart held no fear towards the warnings we had placed, and she was too foolish to recognize danger. We watched as her eyes blazed with the fires of determination, and she called her legion to share in this glory of unraveling a myth that was to stay forgotten.
By dying torchlight, she waded through bone and crypt-dust, taking gold from the eyes of dead men. We heard the screaming of ghosts in the night, heard cries for her blood to repay what she had stolen. The sky was painted white with anguish, swallowing the stars. Their tears fell over her skin, and she bathed in them, baring her flesh to those who wished to destroy it.
Months passed, each one bringing a new flock of the spectral dead who cursed her name. They brought fire under her feet, summoned otherworldly beasts to tear her in two, and afflicted her with fevers that left her pale and blind. She left scorched trails of death in her wake, never falling to it. Spirits whispered in our ears of blood pouring from her eyes, indentations of teeth decorating her skin, and moments when she could only shout at the heavens in her pain.
We turned our eyes from her for a time, as she reminded us of our reckless, tenacious youth. Though shreds of humanity - remorse - persisted within us, we also carried the memories of brighter times in our souls. In her future, we saw us, and we saw pain.
I wrote this months ago and never finished it. It’s based on the Gauldur Amulet questline from Skyrim, but I don’t know whether or not to call it fanfiction because who really knows about the Gauldur brothers and what is canon even.
Still unfinished but I SAID I WOULD POST A THING.
-x-
When whispers of the ancient legend made their way to her ears, we looked upon the world in dismay. For even though old stories never die, most turn away from those who tell them. But her heart held no fear towards the warnings we had placed, and she was too foolish to recognize danger. We watched as her eyes blazed with the fires of determination, and she called her legion to share in this glory of unraveling a myth that was to stay forgotten.
By dying torchlight, she waded through bone and crypt-dust, taking gold from the eyes of dead men. We heard the screaming of ghosts in the night, heard cries for her blood to repay what she had stolen. The sky was painted white with anguish, swallowing the stars. Their tears fell over her skin, and she bathed in them, baring her flesh to those who wished to destroy it.
Months passed, each one bringing a new flock of the spectral dead who cursed her name. They brought fire under her feet, summoned otherworldly beasts to tear her in two, and afflicted her with fevers that left her pale and blind. She left scorched trails of death in her wake, never falling to it. Spirits whispered in our ears of blood pouring from her eyes, indentations of teeth decorating her skin, and moments when she could only shout at the heavens in her pain.
We turned our eyes from her for a time, as she reminded us of our reckless, tenacious youth. Though shreds of humanity - remorse - persisted within us, we also carried the memories of brighter times in our souls. In her future, we saw us, and we saw pain.
Labels:
fanfiction,
high fantasy,
the elder scrolls,
tragedy,
writing
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Personal Blog
I have one of those now. With 100% more .gifs and feelings.
I'll be crossposting creative works over there from now on. This blog will still be updated about as much as I already update it, so if you don't like me rambling about Sam Yao or Gunnerkrigg or whatever, you can just keep reading here.
I'll be crossposting creative works over there from now on. This blog will still be updated about as much as I already update it, so if you don't like me rambling about Sam Yao or Gunnerkrigg or whatever, you can just keep reading here.
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