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8/19/2006 5:24:36 PM
61
ZOMG Zombehz! - A Flood Forum FanFic. Now with Added F!
Hello, boys and girls. I thought I would write a FanFic involving The Flood (you know, because that idea's [i]never[/i] been done before). What you are about to witness is the fruits of my labour. "But what is this story about?!", I hear you cry. Yes, you guessed it, its about zombies. However, this is different from the "Zombie Game FTW!" sticky: this is a narrative that I write, and you kind people read, as opposed o everyone writing thir own. Boring? Perhaps. Some entertianment and practice for me? Certainly. So, sit back and relax, and have fun reading the bloodsplattered story which follows:
[b][u]ZOMG Zombehz![/b][/u]
Pyroshark sat up on his bed, which was the first mistake of the day. The several drinks he had had the night before caught up with him in a wave of nausea and a blistering headache. The low ceiling did nothing to improve matters. He clutched his head in his hands, willing the hangover to go away, and groaned as the memory of the previous night’s events returned to his memory. Semi-consciously, Pyroshark vowed to never again challenge a stranger in a gorilla suit and a yellow hat to a drinking contest.
After the hangover was relatively better, Pyroshark disentangled himself from the sheets and stumbled over to the sink in the adjoining bathroom. He filled the sink with cold water, and plunged his face into it. The water was icy cold, and he quickly withdrew his face with an involuntary gasp. After a half-hearted attempt to tame his long, unruly and now soaking-wet hair, followed by a series of minor incidents involving clothing, Pyroshark stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen. As he crossed the threshold, the queasiness in his stomach returned with a sickening lurch, for which he could not account for. Perhaps it was the baking soda that he ate before drinking last night catching up with him; perhaps it was the prospect of yet another tedious nine-to-five workday; perhaps it was the horde of bloodthirsty animated corpses clawing at the kitchen window. Whatever it was, Pyroshark was sure that this would be a long day.
Elsewhere in Bungopia, the residents were awakening to various degrees of horror. Overnight an epidemic of a new regenerative virus, already christened “The zombie virus”, had ravaged the city, turning over ninety per cent of its population into slow, dim-witted, flesh-eating monstrosities. The difference was subtle.
Now, with dawn breaking, the few surviving residents were responding to this unusual change in their morning routine with various attitudes: some readily grabbed the closest available weapon and headed for the nearest safe position; some found the legions of undead side-splittingly funny; most ran around in the streets squealing “ZOMG ZOMBEHZ!” at the top of their lungs. Fortunately, most of the population with intact sense and sanity were already en route to the city’s biggest shopping mall.
One such group of survivors was running down Flood Avenue, in an attempt to retrieve survivors and escape from the horde of zombies in pursuit. The man at the head of the procession, gruntfarmer, was alternating between firing shots at anything that looked undead, and swearing liberally at the rest of the group to move faster. As they ran along the broad street, gruntfarmer noticed that one particular house was surrounded by more of the festering corpses. In the scant few hours since the zombies first appeared, gruntfarmer knew that only one thing drew zombies like this.
Flesh. Living flesh.
Knowing that survivors were inside, gruntfarmer fired a few shots from his shotgun into the crowd. The zombies around the front door fell, while the rest took no notice. After clearing sufficient space, gruntfarmer rammed down the front door and shouted inside:
“Come on! Get the hell outta here!”
Pyroshark was already grabbing a few sharp knives from the various drawers around the kitchen when he heard the front door burst open and a man’s voice shout in. The words were lost in the cacophonous groaning from the zombies outside, but Pyroshark knew that this particular person wasn’t one of them. In a frenzied haste, Pyroshark grabbed a few more knives, stuffed anything edible on the counters into his mouth for sustenance, and raced to the front door. An odd sight stood guard in the doorway: a stocky figure with greyish skin and some sort of breathing apparatus, clothed only in a pair of overalls. Despite the stranger’s appearance, Pyroshark wasn’t surprised; Bungopia was getting weirder by the minute, and this… [i]person[/i] obviously knew what he was doing. Pyroshark nodded to the stranger as he barrelled out the front door to join a motley assortment of survivors, most armed with whatever had been closest at hand when the zombies had struck. The stranger ran to the head of the procession, shouted to the rest of the group to “move their sorry asses”, and set off at a speedy pace. Keeping pace with the stranger, who was obviously the leader of the survivors, Pyroshark puffed a few questions while he ran.
“What the hell’s going on in this town?”
The stranger shook his head, “No idea, but when I woke up this morning there were tons of these bastards crawling the streets. I gathered up as many survivors as I could, grabbed my gun, and now we’re headed for the mall. Name’s gruntfarmer, by the way.”
“Pyroshark,” Pyroshark replied, “So why are we heading to the mall?”
Gruntfarmer shrugged, “Seems like a better place than most: fortifiable positions, plenty of supplies. Got any better ideas?”
Pyroshark shrugged, “What about HCFS?”
Gruntfarmer snorted with amusement; an odd half-squeak in the breathing mask he wore, “You think that they’ll let us in? That place is guarded day and night by the Ninjas, even in this crisis. Like it or not, we’re on our own.”
After roughly half an hour of running, the group of survivors finally arrived at the mall. Large pools of blood and gore stood testament to a struggle between the living and the undead recently; apparently, gruntfarmer’s group was not the first to arrive here. About two-dozen shopping carts were piled up against the doorway, and rifle barrels poked out at regular intervals from the bars. As the group approached, an unseen person cried out:
“Halt! Who goes there?!”
Pyroshark groaned; he knew that voice. It belonged to Colonel Corbec, the eccentric old man that had lived in the house next door to him for over a decade. He was harmless enough, although his days were normally spent shouting at children who dared each other to knock his front door and run away. Now, it seemed that he had somehow gained control of the garrison.
Gruntfarmer carefully picked his way between the fallen zombies, making sure that they were all thoroughly dead, and stood before the makeshift barricade.
“I am gruntfarmer. I’m the leader of this band of survivors. We’ve come here looking for shelter and supplies.”
Behind the barricade, Pyroshark heard a minor tussle, suffused with the boisterous voice of Colonel Corbec. After a few seconds, another voice spoke up.
“Sorry about that. We’ve tried to keep him under control, but none of us can keep watch on him all the time. Hang on, we’ll move back the barrier now.”
Pyroshark saw gruntfarmer relax visibly as the rifle barrels were withdrawn and the shopping carts were dragged out of the way. The gaggle of survivors quickly filed into the mall, pushing aside their brethren on the inside that stood guard. After the swarm had moved on to the vaulted halls of the mall, only Pyroshark, gruntfarmer, and the supposed leader of the mall guard stood at the front door. The man was roughly six feet tall; of a lean but muscular build; and bore the grim, haunted look of a man who had seem many horrors. Nevertheless, he greeted the newcomers with grace.
“I’m Iceman Assassin”, he said, bowing his head slightly.
Pyroshark and gruntfarmer promptly repeated the gesture and introduced themselves. Iceman nodded in approval.
“Glad to have you here. We’ve been holed up here since midnight, and already we’ve lost over a dozen men to those things. We need all the help we can get.”
“I’m afraid we’re not going to be very useful,” replied gruntfarmer, “Our numbers are mostly civilians with little or no combat experience, and we’ve been running for over two hours straight. Right now we need to rest and recuperate before we do anything else.”
Iceman nodded. “I understand. Many of our number are civilians as well; the guard has been handpicked from those with a history of military experience. For now your people can rest, and then we can plan a course of action.”
Gruntfarmer nodded in agreement. I appreciate your hospitality, Iceman. Right now Bungopia is in ruin; we need all the help we can get.”
That's it. I've got more written, but I'd like to see what everybody thinks before I post more. Did you like it, or not? Post your comments below. Thanks for reading!
-Pyroshark-
[Edited on 8/19/2006]
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CONTINUE DAMMIT!!!!
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i didnt read it cas im lazy but the idea about a flood story is good
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[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] NobleWolf i didnt read it cas im lazy but the idea about a flood story is good[/quote] Same here. Didn't read it, but the least i can do is wish you good luck with the story :P
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[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] WsLp137 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] NobleWolf i didnt read it cas im lazy but the idea about a flood story is good[/quote] Same here. Didn't read it, but the least i can do is wish you good luck with the story :P[/quote] 3 guesses who's going to get killed off during my next chapter. =P Well, not Chapter 2, because that's coming now, but hopefully in Chapter 3 I'll get some zombies to munch on WsLp137 and Noble Wolf. >=) Anyhoo, here's Chapter 2: Far away to the east, on the very outskirts of Bungopia, the citadel of HCFS towered over the city, skewering the horizon. The tower was grave and silent, devoid of all life, save the seventy-seventh floor. The single conference hall that took up the entire level of the tower was wreathed in shadow, and occupied by thirty or so individuals. At the head of the table, Bungopia Overlord Achronos reclined in his leather-backed chair, flanked by Shishka and Yoozel. The Forum Ninja lined either side of the rest of the table. Directly opposite Achronos, Frankie and Kpaul were perched uncomfortably on wooden stools. Achronos took a moment to savour their visibly anxious faces before he spoke. “Gentlemen, thank you all for attending on such short notice. We have urgent matters to attend to, and I believe that you all can play a part.” Achronos paused for a second to let his words sink in to his henchmen, and then continued. “As you may be aware, there was a serious incident last night involving the Webmaster. During the security rotation, he escaped from his cell and managed to flee from the tower. Fortunately, we found him in the nearest bar, and he has been recaptured. Unfortunately, many people witnessed his drunken display. Thus, Containment Protocol Seven was initiated.” The Forum Ninja shifted uncomfortably in their seats as Achronos spoke, and the expressions on Frankie’s and Kpaul’s face flickered from anxiety to shock. Achronos continued before they could voice their opinions. “As Protocol clearly states, no member of the community must witness the Webmaster in public. Therefore, the virus, codenamed “Strain Z”, was released in the vicinity of the Webmaster’s sighting. We now believe that all witnesses have been infected, save one.” At this, Achronos snapped his fingers, and a spotlight cut through the darkness to single out Frankie and Kpaul. Achronos calmly took a pistol from his concealed shoulder holster, and pointed it at the duo. “You two are the only link between HCFS and the community. As such, you now know too much, and Protocol states you must be removed.” With that, Achronos squeezed the trigger. The bullet caught Kpaul in the heart, and he fell forward onto the table, dead. Frankie rose to flee, but another bullet caught him in the back. He stumbled, fell to the floor, uttered a weak scream of pain, and died. Achronos watched the display he had caused with detached indifference. After Frankie stopped breathing, he snapped his fingers again. The elevator doors opened, Recon Number 54 strode out, dragged the two corpses into the elevator, and disappeared. The spotlights shut off, and the room was once again plunged into darkness. “As I was saying,” Achronos continued, “Our intelligence indicates that one community member escaped the release of Strain Z, and is now held up in a shopping mall alongside other survivors in an attempt to avoid infection from Strain Z. Fortunately, we have found one who has the ability to infiltrate the survivors’ new fortification, and eliminate our target.” “An assassin.” Said Shishka, with a hint of admiration. Achronos nodded and replied, “Yes, if that is the term you wish to use. However, all the surviving community members must also be eliminated, as per Containment Protocol; we don’t know how much he has told them, and as such every survivor is a potential witness. After the suspect has been dealt with, our operative will open the main doors to the mall, and you will enter to eliminate any and all witnesses” At this, Senor Leche stood up with an outraged cry. “Have you taken leave of your senses, Achronos? What you propose is butchery! Without our community, we are nothing!” Achronos picked up his pistol from the table, and pointed it square at Senor Leche’s heart. “You are new to HCFS, Mr. Leche; you are still tainted by your time as a member. I would advise you to choose your loyalties wisely.” Senor Leche sat back down dejectedly, and did not argue. Yoozel spoke up, “So, who is this operative whom you wish to send?” Achronos leaned forward in his chair and steepled his fingers. He stared at Yoozel for a second, before moving his gaze on to the rest of the gathered Ninja. Then, with a sigh, he sat back and snapped his fingers for a third time. The elevator silently opened, and a single man walked into the room. He appeared to be an ordinary member, but in the darkness of the room his left eye held the telltale red gleam of a Forum Ninja. “Gentlemen, I believe that you are all acquainted with impurity.” Achronos said coolly, with a hint of satisfaction. After a few silent seconds, Shishka chuckled with grim mirth. The ominous laughter was taken up by the other Ninja, until the seventy-seventh floor of HCFS tower echoed with cold, heartless amusement. Achronos reclined in his leather chair, and allowed himself a rare smile; blood would be spilled this day, and Bungopia would echo with the agonised screams of the community. It was times like this that Achronos loved his job. Pyroshark walked among the makeshift encampment that the shopping mall had become. The newcomers were getting acquainted to their new surroundings, while those who had already been in habitation huddled forlornly in tents and sleeping bags that had been raided from an outdoor hobbies store and pitched at irregular intervals along the main plaza. Voices of the newcomers echoed over the quiet music that was pitched into all shopping venues as standard. “Lol, gunz!” “OMG! DDR! Roxxor!” “BBQ?” Pyroshark wandered around the designated living area, taking note of the grim faces that followed his progress. After a while, he weaved back the way he had come, to where gruntfarmer and Iceman were waiting. “How’re they doing?” grunfarmer asked “They’re settling in. Most don’t really seem to realise how serious the situation is.” “Bungopians never were renowned for their quick wits,” Iceman pointed out, “I’d say we have a day before panic starts to sink in.” “If the zombies don’t get us first,” gruntfarmer interjected, “they’ve been attacking the front barrier for the last ten minutes straight.” Pyroshark nodded grimly. “They can smell us. They smell living flesh, and they’re hungry.” “In that case, I say our first course of action should be to gather up every can of deodorant and air freshener we can find, and put them to use.” Iceman said. “What good will that do if we’re all dead by then?” grunfarmer demanded, “I say we gather up as many weapons as we can get, and salvage any supplies from the stores.” Before a heated debate could start, Pyroshark interrupted, “You both have good points. Iceman, you go to any personal hygiene stores you can find and raid the deodorant cans; gruntfarmer, you try and find weapons.” “What about you?” Iceman and gruntfarmer demanded in unison. “I’m going to try and find an escape route for if… when… our defences are breached.” “Alright”, gruntfarmer said indifferently, while Iceman merely nodded. Both were about to run off to their appointed tasks, but Pyroshark spoke. “Wait.” Both turned to face him. Pyroshark moved to the nearby janitor’s closet, and took out three wooden mops and a roll of masking tape. With a swift kick, Pyroshark quickly broke the mop head from the shaft of one of the mops. Then, he drew two knives from the improvised sheaths he had made by cutting slits along the legs of his jeans. Using the masking tape, he quickly bound a knife to either end of the mop shaft, and twirled it experimentally. The improvised halberd wouldn’t be much use across a long period of time, but it would be sufficient for self-defence in the immediate future. Pyroshark handed the weapon to Iceman, and set about making two more; one for gruntfarmer and one for him. After a few short minutes, all three were equipped with halberds. Pyroshark also had three knives left, which he distributed among them. “If anything goes wrong, and you run into any of those flesh-eating bastards, whistle three times.” Pyroshark ordered. Gruntfarmer and Iceman both nodded. After a short pause, Pyroshark added, “Good luck.” With that, Iceman and gruntfarmer ran off to fulfil their assigned duties. As their footsteps faded into the distance, Pyroshark noted with some surprise that he had taken control of the ragtag group of survivors. Their lives now depended on him; a scruffy, middle-sized, average guy with no history of zombie combat or even any military experience. Crap, he thought to himself. There ye go. Hopefully everyone'll have a look-see, although my writing history on this forum doesn't have the best history. >_< Thanks to anyone who [i]did[/i] read though; your deaths may be quick and painless. Of course, it all depends on how psychotic I feel when I go to write more... -Pyroshark-
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[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Pyroshark [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] WsLp137 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] NobleWolf i didnt read it cas im lazy but the idea about a flood story is good[/quote] Same here. Didn't read it, but the least i can do is wish you good luck with the story :P[/quote] 3 guesses who's going to get killed off during my next chapter. =P Well, not Chapter 2, because that's coming now, but hopefully in Chapter 3 I'll get some zombies to munch on WsLp137 and Noble Wolf. >=) -Pyroshark-[/quote] Nooo!! Don't let them eat my brain!! I don't use it much, but it would help if I still had it, you know...
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[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] WsLp137 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Pyroshark [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] WsLp137 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] NobleWolf i didnt read it cas im lazy but the idea about a flood story is good[/quote] Same here. Didn't read it, but the least i can do is wish you good luck with the story :P[/quote] 3 guesses who's going to get killed off during my next chapter. =P Well, not Chapter 2, because that's coming now, but hopefully in Chapter 3 I'll get some zombies to munch on WsLp137 and Noble Wolf. >=) -Pyroshark-[/quote] Nooo!! Don't let them eat my brain!! I don't use it much, but it would help if I still had it, you know...[/quote] Well, I might be [i]persuaded[/i] somehow to let you be one of the lucky ones... Now, I wonder what you could do to get on my good side? *muttering* What's that, JAVA? *muttering* Wha... [i]NO![/i] *muttering* What're... stop touching yourself there! Wait... stop touching [i]me[/i] there! *runs away* -Pyroshark-
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"Mommy it's tingly and i dont understand it!" "no means no! i'm telling on you!" [Edited on 8/19/2006]
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We need to have another one of those The Flood Attacks thing. Oh God, that was the best time I've ever had here on Bnet.
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Very very interesting
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[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Pyroshark [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] WsLp137 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Pyroshark [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] WsLp137 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] NobleWolf i didnt read it cas im lazy but the idea about a flood story is good[/quote] Same here. Didn't read it, but the least i can do is wish you good luck with the story :P[/quote] 3 guesses who's going to get killed off during my next chapter. =P Well, not Chapter 2, because that's coming now, but hopefully in Chapter 3 I'll get some zombies to munch on WsLp137 and Noble Wolf. >=) -Pyroshark-[/quote] Nooo!! Don't let them eat my brain!! I don't use it much, but it would help if I still had it, you know...[/quote] Well, I might be [i]persuaded[/i] somehow to let you be one of the lucky ones... Now, I wonder what you could do to get on my good side? *muttering* What's that, JAVA? *muttering* Wha... [i]NO![/i] *muttering* What're... stop touching yourself there! Wait... stop touching [i]me[/i] there! *runs away* -Pyroshark-[/quote] Hmm... Maybe I get the 1337 power to turn into a raccoon, and hide and save myself or help others, since zombies are not that interested in raccoons anyways...
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yay...................
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Senile Old Man. Pah! I'll have you know, back in my day, we didn't talk about our old 'uns like that! You young whipper-snappers should grow some respect for yer elders!
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i sent you a friend request and im not even in the story?! wow you a good friend /sarcasm and im a fellow irishman such as yourself *Krys*
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Great story. Kudos and kisses for you! =P
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Your first post was aweomse; I'll have to read the rest later.
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can i be in it? ppplllzzzz???? btw good story [Edited on 8/19/2006]
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Great story... Funny that I just watced Dawn of the Dead last night so I was already thinking about zombies....
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*waits to see "gnome13" in the story* its pretty good...
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[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] gnome13 *waits to see "gnome13" in the story* its pretty good...[/quote] yea, i wanna be in the story... good job pyroshark, very nice
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Wow dude thats alot more interesting than most books I read. Great job and keep the chapters coming!
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Cool story... Stan wishes he was in it. But alas, not being active does that to me... :( Nobody knows me anymore...
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Attack on HFCS ftw!! Great story Pyro. I'm sure you and Gruntfarmer would make excellent allies in the fight against Tyranny!!
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Good Story w007 Go Flood!
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ahh achronos as the bad guy masterstroke
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I'll start bumping this thread if nessesary. I demand more. Now.
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Great description although in some cases it seems rushed. The story, although not altogether original, is fairly well thought out. Good job Pyro. (Note: This may be incomplete and inaccurate since I only skimmed through the story. I'll try and do a more thorough reading later but right now, I don't have time.) [Edited on 8/19/2006]
