The Walking Dead: Survivor Stories / Episode 1 [IC][Closed]

[Dilange]

Riley hid behind a large concrete wall, he had no interest in fighting. He just hid. The battle was over as soon as it started. He got up and looked around. The Israeli man walked over towards him and asked of Riley's condition.

"I'm fine.....just fine." he said.

Riley looked at the man before him. He was very familiar to Riley, like he had known him for a long time. He looked at him hard but then saw the man's rifle. It hit him.

"Yoni? Yoni Kurliss?" he asked Yoni.

Yoni looked at Riley. He rubbed his eyes. He grinned with immense joy.

"Riley! You sonuvagun! How are you? I didnt expect you to be in Michigan......" he said.

[United Slavic Nations]

Milos stared expectantly at the puddle of blood on the floor. He didn't know what he wanted it to do, only that he was looking at it for some odd reason. He had just watched a man kill himself, after having an intense battle with three orange-suited men - most likely inmates - and apologize to some invisible entity he called "Allison". We wasn't disturbed in the least, he'd been through much worse; but there was something about watching another human being pop a cap in their own skull that made him shiver. He shrugged it off, and went to follow the smart-looking man who had wrapped the suicide victim in a sheet and carried him off.

[Cylarn]

As Scott examined the battle scene, he looked out forward and noticed the paramilitary individuals standing there, watching them. He watched them sternly, waiting for them to make a move and slaughter the group. He didn't know where Allison was, and he didn't care. She had abandoned the group, as far as he was concerned, and she wasn't getting welcomed back, by Scott at least. He looked back out towards the prison and walked back inside. If anyone looked at him, they could see the "Thousand-Yard Stare" on his face. He was weary from fighting; ever since he was 18, he had been fighting. He was then approached by Dr. Stewart, who was carrying a corpse wrapped in a blanket. He had also noticed that one of the Marshals had been killed. Pulling back the sheet, Scott saw the face, and sighed.

"Prepare the dead at the front," he said. "One of the Marshals fell too, and Johann is in the TTV."

[Khelshar]

Thing had happened so fast. The one second Thomas shot people with thunder to cover him, the next he was on the floor, screaming in pain, the next a new explosion, and a person carrying him, and patching him up. He started coming back to reality again, after being extreme dizzy. He looked at man carrying him. He recognized him as Nick.

"Hey, Nick?" he said with a low voice. "Why has the shooting stopped? Did we win?"
Nick put in him down, and started treating his wounds. It hurt, but Thomas could control himself enough to not scream. When the doctor was done, it did not feel the same way. It was still painful, but not the same way. He could not explain it.

The shooting was over. He did not think about it before now. He mentioned it earlier, but not realized it. What would happen now? How many survived? How will he handle the fact that he is a murderer? And how will it will go with Scott as leader. He started thinking about all this. How will this end?

[Camicon]

OOC: Yeah, this might be a bit graphic. Guys especially, you may not want to read about the part with the third raider. It definitely made me cringe.

When I heard the call by Thomas that Machiavelli was in sight, I swore inwardly. Not just because the battle was about to being, but because Thomas was yelling so loudly that the civilians hiding in the infirmary could hear him. It wouldn't be good to have them panic, and start trying to run away. That would probably end with them getting caught in the crossfire, or picked off by some circling raiders. With an exasperated sigh, I trotted back to the infirmary, to reassure everyone. On the way, I made a note to myself to check on Zhang's condition, although I wasn't too worried about her, considering the Doc was keeping an eye on her now. I'm not sure I did much, telling everyone that there was nothing they needed to worry about, while wearing body armour and toting a sub-machine gun. But, I supposed that every little bit helped.

I was walking back to the lobby when I heard the first explosion.

It was followed in quick succession by the screeching of metal on metal, and yet more explosions. Each one, it seemed, louder than the last. By the time I'd gotten outside, the sound of automatic fire could be heard, chattering through spouts of thunder, and a roaring downpour. The sky was black with rolling clouds, and limiting my vision. The muzzle flash illuminated the attackers well enough, however. I hadn't exactly planned on attacking on the front lines, so I didn't. Instead, I scanned the sides of the battlefield (at one point stepping aside to let the Doc and Rick through, carting a wounded Thomas), which was the only reason I saw a small group of inmates that had, apparently, grown at least part of a brain. I didn't see exactly how many, but I figured there were five. Maybe six. They'd cut through the chain link fence, and were apparently intending to sneak around and attack us from the rear. I would have warned some of the others, but they had their hands full with the seventy-some inmates attacking from the front. Besides I had to duck inside the lobby of the prison when they started shooting at me.

I ran past the infirmary, passing by Rick and the Doc, who was working on Thomas. I'd done a little exploring of this section of the prison. Past the infirmary were some barred, unlocked, gates, which lead into some sort of office wing. There was a door there that lead outside, and that was where I figured the inmates would try to break in, to try and take anyone inside by surprise. As it happened, I was partially right. Three men had decided to come in the side door. The others, apparently, decided to take the front door. I hoped that Rick and the Doc could handle those guys on their own, because as I skidded around the corner to find three armed inmates, I saw my life flash before my eyes.

The only reason I didn't die was because my momentum carried me right past the hallway the door was in. Even though I tried to stop, I didn't have enough grip on the linoleum floor. I found that I didn't care much, as a stream of bullets ripped through the air, where I'd been only moments before. Crouched against the walls, I waited until I heard a pause in the gunfire, and the frustrated grunts of an inmates that sounded like he was having trouble with his gun. Figuring that two people shooting at me were better than three, I took the opportunity to pop around the corner, and squeeze off some rounds from my MP5. The kick took me completely by surprise, and I watched with an idle curiosity as the bullet slammed first into one inmate's midsection, then his chest, then his face, then the blood-coated ceiling directly above him. When the other two raised their weapons again, I ducked back around the corner, though I was now on the other side of the hallway, the way I'd come from. The bullets punched past me, harmlessly.

I found it a little curious that I had absolutely no remorse at killing a man. Instead, there was only the slight tingle of fear, and a slightly more powerful feeling of anger. Overriding it all though, was the adrenaline pounding in my veins. All in all, it did a good job at keeping focused on the task at hand, instead of distracting me with unwanted horror at killing a man. I heard footsteps as the two men started moving forward, and responded by moving myself backwards as fast as I could, hoping that I'd be able to make it to another corner in the hallways. As it so happened, I didn't. Luckily for me, it didn't matter. A quick burst of gunfire kept the two inmates from poking their heads around the corner, until I was behind another wall. I meant to check how many bullets I had left in the gun, but at that point, it became irrelevant.

Just as I was about to take look down and count my rounds, an older man, and a woman who I assumed to be his wife, and a young girl no older than five, sprinted past me and around the corner. maybe if I hadn't been partially deafened by all the indoor gunfire I'd've been able to stop them, get them back to the infirmary.

...

... something...

...

The raiders didn't waste any time. One of them let out a stream of automatic fire, and he didn't miss. All three fell to the ground, blood spurting from a half-a-dozen wounds on each of them. The girl was... mostly... not there, in that sense. If I hadn't been caught in the chest by a blast from the other inmate's shotgun, I would've spent the next ten minutes heaving, until I coughed up my small intestine. Instead, I spent the next thirty seconds trying to remember how to breathe, as the two of them walked up nonchalantly, chuckling to themselves. They paused and did something to the bodies. I didn't see what. They laughed loudly.

Then, the gaunt, leering face of the man who'd gunned down the man, woman, and girl appeared in my vision. In his hand, a knife. "Lookie what we got here? Maybe time for Splits to have some fun, with stupid military man? Maybe then have fun with little girl?" He waved his knife over towards the three new corpses, and that was what did it for me.

I felt rage pounding through me, like I'd never felt it before. My MP5 lay underneath me, which was just as well, because I didn't think I'd've used it, even if I could. It would've just gotten in the way. One of my hands grabbed around his bony wrist, holding the knife back from my face. My other grabbed his throat, fingers straining to squeeze every last bit of life from his filthy lungs. As he struggled fiercely, his companion yelling and moving towards us, I brought my knee up into his groin. He stopped fighting then, instead groaning in pain. I tore the knife from his grasp, brought it around, and slammed it into his kidney. The moans of pain stopped as his throat closed up, thanks to the signals of pain that his brain was receiving from his kidney. A moment later, he felt no pain ever again, as his companion's shotgun punched a crater into his back.

For the second time, I saw a leering face over top of me. This time, a dead man laying across my lower body, and the barrel of a shotgun in my face. This inmate wasted no time in pulling the trigger.

Once.

...

Twice.

...

Three times.

...

For a fourth time.

...

Each to the same effect. Which was... nothing. His shotgun was out of ammo. I thanked whatever gods above or below had granted me a reprieve, as I rolled away from him and regained my feet.

Initially shocked at not coating the floor with my brains, the inmate recovered quickly, charging me, swinging the shotgun like a club. I took one swing across my forearm, gritting my teeth at the crack of pain. It was worth it though, as it let me slug my clenched right hand into his stomach as we crashed into each other, which sent him reeling. I grabbed him by the back of his orange jumpsuit before he could recover, slammed his head into the wall, and threw him to the ground. He scrambled to his feet, and tried to rush me again, unarmed this time. I was ready for him, bracing myself and taking him full on. I staggered back a few paces, and he was sent to the ground once again. As he tried to scramble up for a second time, I wound up and planted my foot into his ribs. He fell, clutching his side and gasping for breathe. I kicked him onto his back, and stomped on his chest with my full weight. Something cracked. Loudly.

Now, leaning over him as he once did me, I made a point of picking up his shotgun, fishing a round out of his pocket, and loading it. His eyes bulged in panic, and he tried, in vain, to get away from me. I stomped on his chest again. It seemed to take the fight out of him. I waggled the barrel of the shotgun in his face, made him squirm. Then, I pulled it back. The man seemed to relax. That was, until I pushed it into his crotch, and pulled the trigger.

I'm sure that everyone in the compound heard his screaming, even with the thunderous roar from out front as a second set of IED's blew up. From the amount of blood pouring out from his ruined genitals, I didn't figure he'd survive long enough to much of a threat to anyone. Just to be sure, I loaded a second shell into his shotgun, and blew apart one of his knees.

I dropped the shotgun on the floor, well out of his reach, and retrieved my MP5. I checked the magazine as I headed for the infirmary. Fifteen rounds.

Frightened faces poked out as my footsteps echoed down the halls. They grew practically as big as dinner plates when they saw me. I suppose I was covered in blood. I shed the body armour, which had become ruined in the process of saving my sorry life, and slung it over my shoulder. It hung heavy against my back. "Nobody goes that way until I say so." I croaked through a tight throat, pointing back the way I'd come.



Walking out the main doors, I felt the rain mingling with my tears, and the blood across my brow.

As a few men moved mechanically, collecting the dead, I lamented silently for the world I had inherited.

[Dimoniquid]

Alex climbed down. He didn't know what to do - right now, he'd probably move all of the dead to the front. They had held out long enough to survive, though, and that's all that mattered. Slinging the rifle, Alex made his way out, grabbed the feet of an inmate, and dragging him to the front of the prison. Walking back, he moved to a truck, opening it up and emptying a bag carefully. It would be big enough to carry a few rifles in, anyway. That was his job now - pick up rifles, scour for ammunition. With the amount of inmates firing at them, it would be easy enough to get a large supply of it.

[Shadyrya]

Alex knew this was his final stand.

Maybe luck hadn't been on his side. The odds definitely weren't with them. Perhaps Alex had made a stupid move. It didn't really matter; it all lead to the same outcome.

Alex leaned out of cover, managing to shoot another one of Machiavelli's henchman. By now, he was down to his last three bullets. Alex stood, deciding to move near Scott and see if he had some ammunition; otherwise, all he had was his pistol. Diving, he managed to make it; however, one of the cons had great accuracy. It hit the vest, saving his life, but considering he had already taken three bullets to the thing, he knew it was practically cardboard by now. Scott had nothing for him; he edged his way over to his hiding spot. A thought struck him; if he could get to the main compound, it'd be a hell lot easier to shoot the dickheads who had invaded this place. Running down the stairs, he managed to trip like an idiot; he caught himself, luckily. Making it down, and seeing a rather ideal blown-up car, he sprinted toward it. That was the bad move.

The vest probably saved his life; if only one bullet had come at him. They rained hell on Alex, at least twenty bullets puncturing him, before he fell. His lungs were definitely destroyed; his breath came in ragged gasps, and intense pain enveloped his torso. Blood poured out around him, and the world began to blur. Taking a cigarette, he lit it, took a drag, and died with a smirk on his face.

[Monfrox]

The group of six had stood for a while now before Smartass spoke up. "они знают, что мы здесь? [They know that we are here?]" "Я не знаю. Получить грузовик. [I do not know. Get the truck.]" Marked One said in reply. Smartass quickly went back up and in a couple of minutes, pulled the troop truck around. The six soldiers stowed their gear and weapons away and then began to walk towards the prison again. "Позвольте мне сделать разговор. [Let me do the talking.]" Marked One told the others. There was a loud knocking at the front door.

[Cylarn]

Monroe soon approached the front gate. He instantly knew who they were, and they likely knew who he was. Still, he looked at them with a stern expression on his face. Scott soon approached the gate and gave the mysterious group a stern look.

"What do y'all want?," he asked.

[Dimoniquid]

Alex heard the knock. Quickly, he dropped the bag of rifles and magazines, running up to the ladder and climbing up the wall. Grabbing his own rifle, he looked over, poking his rifle to the visitors. Seeing Scott, he nodded, keeping overwatch.

[Monfrox]

The heavier armored one looked to Alex. "Put the gun down, boy." The soldier said before looking back to Scott. The soldier then began to slide off the helmet and gas mask head case, which was harder than it looked. After a about a minute, it gave and flew off the soldier's head. A thick head of red hair hid the face of the soldier, who promptly waved it out of the way. Before Scott could say anything to her, Allison grabbed him in the biggest hug he had ever been given in his entire life.

[Dimoniquid]

"I'd rather not. You can never be too sure." Alex replied, lowering his rifle slightly. "Scott, I'm going to set up the rifles and weapons in the armory." Alex said, sliding the ladder and gesturing to the bag. "Mostly Russian stuff, but there's a lot of ammunition. Should we keep all of the rifles?" He asked.

[Cylarn]

Before Scott could say anything, he was suddenly hugged by Allison, who almost knocked him onto the ground. Gently, he patted her on the back as she hugged him tightly. He still had the "thousand-yard stare" across his face as she hugged him though, weary of the fighting. Once she let go, he looked at her sternly.

"You've got a lot of nerve, comin' back here," he said.

Monroe nodded to Alex, and walked away from Scott. He noticed Alex's body and lifted the man onto his shoulder, laying him down with the other corpses.

[Monfrox]

"I told you I'd come back, and I meant it." She gestured to the five soldiers behind her. "These are my brothers from the camp I went to in order to round up some more people for you. We were a little late, but we still managed to do our job." She turned back to him. "And I hope you appreciate the things I had to do to get to the camp and get them here. Gas isn't cheap, and these guys are irreplaceable. So in this line of business. It's all about who you know." She looked away for a second. "And sometimes that's not enough. But I did it because I knew you guys would need all the help you could get." She looked back at him with a huge smile.

[Cylarn]

Scott wanted to yell at her for her insubordination earlier, but he had to forget it. She had helped out tremendously in the battle, and he respected that. Plus, he respected Allison.

"Are they thinkin' about stayin'?," Scott asked.

[Lancearc]

Doctor Stewart had taken the time to line the dead--the group's own and the others--up in neat rows near the front gate. It was eery, all of the bodies that weren't horribly mutilated seemed to be at peace with their fate, at least the most peace they'd be able to find in such a world where the dead walked amongst the living in search of their next meal. He stopped his pacing up and down the line of bodies for a moment, noticing a small silver cross hanging from one of the bodies' neck. He knelt, carefully removing the necklace from the corpse's neck and placing it around his own, tucking it into his shirt. If all we can do is hope and pray... he thought, before continuing down the line in a final body count.

[Monfrox]

"No, they were here to help and that's it. They're like family to me, but I know that I am always welcome to them. A few of them have known me longer than others so it's not like I'll be forgotten. Besides, people come and go from the camps all the time." She looked back at them for a bit. The five had taken seats in sort of a circle and were chatting back and forth. She returned to Scott. "So, they'll leave when I say, but we take care of our people. I'll be staying here for a while longer until they need me for something, but they know to only call on me in emergencies."

[Cylarn]

Scott nodded his head to Allison before walking over to the front entrance of the main building. He waited on everyone to come over.

"EVERYONE, OVER HERE!," he yelled at the top of his lungs.

[Dimoniquid]

Alex had taken the rifles to the prison armory. After leaving his vest their, he secured his hatchet to his belt, making sure he could grab it easily. After turning up outside, he found Doctor Stewart with a line of bodies. "It's got to be hard being the only medic in this group. If you need any help - just let me know. I'd be glad to relieve some stress." He said, bowing his head in a sign of respect for those lost. Once he heard Scott, he tilted his head. "Better go." He said, walking over.

[Lancearc]

Nick nodded in response to the man that had spoken to him, before he too heard Scott shouting for the group to get to the front of what looked to be one of the larger and more important buildings. He wasted no time in jogging over as well.

[Khelshar]

Thomas was still dizzy, but he could understand what was happening. He hears Scott calling everyone in. He got afraid to not get there, so he tried to stand. His back hurt alot, but if he held the back in the same position, it did not hurt that much. Problem is that is impossible. He found a crutch to lean on for most steps, but he could not walk long.
"Could somebody help me?" he cried out, hoping someone could help him.

[Dimoniquid]

Alex heard Thomas's grumble. Looking behind him, he saw Thomas making his way down the steps. "Hey, you okay?" He asked, helping him along. "What the hell happened to your back?" He asked.

[Khelshar]

He saw the new guy, Alex, coming his way, probably to help him. Alex helped him get moving.
"I.. i got shot in the back and right shoulder by someone in the tower. I dont know how serius it is, but i might get over it soon?" he halfway said, halfway asked. "But thanks for helping me. You are a good lad. I can't miss it when Scott is going to say something. A bullet or two wont stop me." he said, trying to be more sound optimistic then in agony.

[Dimoniquid]

He saw the new guy, Alex, coming his way, probably to help him. Alex helped him get moving.
"I.. i got shot in the back and right shoulder by someone in the tower. I dont know how serius it is, but i might get over it soon?" he halfway said, halfway asked. "But thanks for helping me. You are a good lad. I can't miss it when Scott is going to say something. A bullet or two wont stop me." he said, trying to be more sound optimistic then in agony.

Alex's eyes widened. If he got shot, then Alex needed to get him sought to quickly. "Did you get it checked?" He asked, helping Thomas over. "Doc, could you take a look at Thomas?" He asked.

[Lancearc]

Doctor Stewart gazed towards Alex, somewhat confused. "I...did." he said, motioning to the bandaged wounds on his upper back and shoulder. "He'll be fine, he didn't lose much blood and the bullets missed any important blood vessels and organs, though the bullet that entered the shoulder barely missed several arteries." he said with a nod.