A doomed world

[Alpha]

Sup? Some may know me, most won't, i've gone through quite a bit of aliases here, few would see the irony in the new one. I've written quite a bit here, some I've yet to finish. all under takishis mine

Here's the new piece. Uploading the first 2 chapters. Its style is experimental. Feedback will be ignored read thoroughly

Cheers.



The moans were making him crazy. Crazy. He couldn’t stand them anymore. He wanted to be as far from the maddening crowd as possible. Despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been able to. It had followed him. Relentless, implacable, unstoppable… The best he had been able to find was a maintenance closet in the mall he had tried to pillage, with no forethought to the fact that it might have been overrun.


He hadn’t seen any of them when breaking in. The doors had been locked, he thought it had been protected from the incident. Quickly he noticed that it was not the case, as the mall was quite damaged, broken glass everywhere. Blood splatters all around. It could even be considered artistic. Wandering around, he had found himself to be drawn to the patterns it formed. He didn’t see any of them around. He thought it was fine.


He had gotten cocky. Surviving for so long, thinking he wouldn’t die, get in trouble, they were too simple to notice him, he was too smart to be noticed. He hadn’t seen the broken glass on the floor. He thought it was fine. No other sounds could be heard around, the glass shattering resonating in the empty outlet. He held his breath. Heard nothing. Let it out in relief. He didn’t hear one crawling to him. Its vocal cords not responding anymore, its throat having been ripped out. It grabbed his ankle. He screamed, his gun following closely.


That was heard. By everyone. Or everything rather. He still thought it was fine. He hear a shrilly screams, and the stomping was to be heard. He didn’t think it was fine anymore. He threw stealth out of the window. Too late for that now. He ran. Ran. Ran. As fast as he could. Gun aimed low, at the ready. He cursed it. He cursed the noise. He didn’t curse his nerves that had failed him. He sprayed his gun, now and again, behind him. Hoping it would be enough. That was wishful thinking. His gun clicked empty. He cursed at the lack of ammo. He didn’t curse his lack of thinking.


He ran. He was lost. The exit was nowhere to be seen. The stomping grew louder behind him, and he started to hear the screams getting closer to him. He knew what to do. His egg timer was ready. One might think, how does an egg timer help in this situation. It was hopeless. He was dead. Or soon to be. He primed it for 30 seconds only. It would be enough. Thirty seconds was a long time in this situation. It seemed to him an hour had passed.


It rang. He threw it going around a corner. He saw an open closet, dashed in, locked the door. He tried to calm his nerves. His heart was pounding very hard. He thought it would give him away. He cursed the sound. He didn’t curse his lack of training. He heard the horde passing by his door, hoping none heard him. They didn’t stop. They followed the egg timer. One might think, egg timer was a good idea. The egg timer hadn’t been thrown far, so they stayed around the closet. He was slumped on the wall. Moving would make too much sound he thought.


The moans were making him go crazy. Crazy. He checked his ammo. No bullets in the gun. He knew that already. It had been wishful thinking. He got a handgun out. Checked the ammo. One bullet left. It had been given to him by somebody else. The person had told him it was for him. Literally. It was not for them. It was for him. His brain. In case he was in a pinch. To not be a bother to anyone else still breathing.


He didn’t want to take that alternative. It was cowardly. Yet, it called to him. Beckoned him. It was a way out. An easy one. The door was out of question. No. It wasn’t a solution. He could wait. He was patient. They would just go away, at some point. Wishful thinking. Yet the handgun called to him. The moans where making him crazy. A demon appeared on his shoulder. Telling him to do it. An angel appeared on the other shoulder. Telling him to do it. You are not supposed to say that, he said to the angelic being. Maybe, but right now you are screwed. It’s the only way out I see. God will understand, the angel said.


There is a God? Beats me, I’m just a figment of your madness. Crazy. No. He would just have to be patient. The gun was a lighthouse. A way out. He picked it up. Put it on the side of his head. Don’t miss. No warning shot. You only have one shot.


The moans were making him crazy.



**************************************


The moans were making him crazy. Crazy. He couldn’t stand them anymore. He wanted to be as far from the maddening crowd as possible. Despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been able to. He hadn’t want to bring them home. His friend and her boyfriend were making out. In the back of his car. Crazy.


He felt like a taxi. Worse. He wasn’t getting paid for it. Irritating. The guy in the back. He was drunk off his ass. She less. Yet, he couldn’t have left them at the party. The host didn’t want them there. He didn’t want to bring them home. The host gave him fifty bucks and a club sandwich. He was bringing them back home. It was the sandwich that swayed him.


It sounded like a porno in his car. A bad one at that. It was overacted. She wasn’t into it. Faking. The guy was drunk. Can’t do a good job drunk. He didn’t like the guy. Her boyfriend. The girl he liked. They were good friends. Roommates. She wasn’t drunk. Not enough to be liking this. Just toyed with the guy. Served him right. An old jock. Jocks. Replace the 1st letter. You get a better description of what they are. He didn’t like the guy


He wished he could have the radio on. The jock didn’t want that. Douche. He was going to be left in front of his house. Nothing mean. He wasn’t going to remember much of the night. The moans stopped briefly. Sweet release. Much calmer now. Almost too quiet. Almost missed the moans. They started again. Damn. No. Not moans. It was more like snoring. He saw his friend pushing the guy. She climbed in front. The guy was sleeping.


Did you have your fun? Yup. Men are so easy, she said looking at him. Keep telling yourself that. You are just lucky I’m here to help you. What would I do without you? You are my hero, she smirked. Stop lying.


He didn’t want to get distracted. Driving at night was nerve wracking. Crazy. Low to no lighting. All depending on the moon. Little trust to have there. Plenty of clouds. It might rain. He liked rain. It was soothing. She was getting comfy. Feet on the dashboard. Back folded. Almost like a cat. Browsing her phone.


Look at this! I’m trying to drive. There is nothing in front. There might be. A deer might cross. What are the odds, she said. Quite low. Quite low. But still. I wouldn’t want to swerve. You don’t want to swerve? Loss of traction of the tires. Higher accident risk. If you meet a dear, ram into it. Less potential damage. You can’t fool me, she sneered. You took that from a movie. Maybe. But it’s true.


She snickered. Went back to her phone. Idiot. Leech. His leech. She trusted him. He trusted her. He looked two seconds at her form. Frame of her face lighted by her phone. A small smile on her face. She trusted him. He liked her. He’ll never say it. No. He won’t. Not with friends. Not with roommates. Too much to lose.


Thought you were supposed to look at the road. It’s straight no? Look out! His gaze was back on the road. Stupid. Follow your own advice. Looked like a man. No. It was not possible. Unlikely. He didn’t swerve. He rammed into it. Straight into it. No swerving. Less chance for damage. He hit the brakes. Too hard. Not smooth. They were lurched forward. The guy in the back hit the front seats hard. They looked back. At each other. Didn’t care. He opened the door. She grabbed his arm.

What are you doing, she screamed. Looking at what we it. Doesn’t matter, let’s just leave. I think it might be a guy.

Moreover! He might need help! She was hysteric. She wanted to leave. Now. He wanted to help. He went to help. He got out. Despite her screams. Despite the chill he felt. Something was wrong. Wrong. Crazy even. The odds of him hitting something? Low. Unlikely.


He got out. Despite the rain starting to fall. Great. Just my luck. His phone provided lighting. Awesome. It felt like a horror movie. Not a good one. Shame. Lacked a cello. His heart was pounding. He saw a trail of blood. Didn’t see a body. Clichés keep falling. Must’ve been blown away by the hit. Or still on the hood of the car. He saw it. A bit further back. Crazy. It was a human sized. A man. PUPPIES.


He shivered. It tried to get up. He couldn’t move. What is this feeling? My brain tells me to run. It got up. It was not stable. He heard a moan. He backed away slowly. Why was he backing? He didn’t know. It felt… Right. He kicked a glass bottle. The head of the person turned sharply. The moan turned into a screech. It lurched forward. Dashed. Unfazed it seemed by the accident. He froze. Fazed by what was happening. PUPPIES.


It fell. It’s leg broken in two. Lucky. It hadn’t liked the sudden sprint. Yet. It still came at him. Relentless, implacable, unstoppable… His senses came back. Lucky. He ran to the car. His phone fell. Unlucky. He ran. Ran. He didn’t turn back. He left his phone. Kept his dignity almost intact. The sound of the rain drowned the screeching. Good. He slipped. Fell. Hard. Not Good. He got back up. Pain searing in his left knee. Right elbow burning. Right palm bloody. Not good. Couldn’t hear it. Good.

Probably.


He limped as fast as he could to his car. Threw himself in. Forgot the seatbelt. Screw the seatbelt. His friend was scared. She saw the scene by acts. Thanks to the lightning falling sporadically. She was scared. He was scared. The guy in the back was snoring. Oblivious. The tires screeched on the asphalt. His driving was fast. Too fast. Faster than usual. Especially in rain. Crazy. What happened out there? He rushed me. He couldn’t follow. His legs couldn’t resist after the accident. Crazy. Are you hurt, she inquired. Yes. But it doesn’t hurt. Yet. Slow down please.


He wanted to. He couldn’t. His fear keeping him from slowing. She was scared. He was scared. Slow down. You are scaring me. His bloody elbow. His bloody hand. His wet hair. The lightning streaking his face now and again. Lacked a cello. She grabbed his arm softly He slowed down. Adrenaline faded from his blood stream. He slowed down. Pain popped its head out.

Hurts.


What happened? I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t want to know. Rain kept pouring. Guy still snoring. Screech still ringing in his ears.


The screech was making him crazy.

Crazy.

[Kuro]

A zombie story? Cool.

But, I think you should put dialogue in "", because it's a bit difficult to understand when they are talking and who's talking as opposed to when the narrator just thinks to himself.

[Jackrabbit]

Cool writing style, I like it~ But yeah, like Kuro said, it'd be better to use the " marks (though I just assumed there was something I couldn't see there because I'm not on computer atm).

[Degree]

I think the dialogue is fine. It provides the reader a certain distance from the narrator, or a narrator distanced from himself, I guess. I found no problems with it.

However, the second chapter does have far too many short sentences compared to the first chapter. This may just be my personal opinion, but the first half of that chapter feels the most off? Either way, I liked parts of it.

[Alpha]

Yeahhhhhh..... The first chapters are actually quite different from one another. I mentioned that this was experimental and i ain't lying. oh and what da KITTENS! happened to KITTENS!


He didn’t want to be there. Normal road for most people. More history for him. Recent history. The night before. The accident. Yesterday. It seems so far away. His knee hurt. His elbow couldn’t fold. His hand couldn’t exert strength. He hadn’t gotten sleep. He looked like death. Felt like dying. He didn’t want to be there. He’d rather be back in 9th grade. Yes. He really did.

His roommate was here too. They had left the jock on his porch. In the rain. No harm done. He hoped his phone was still there. It would help out his nerves. His music was in there. His life was in there. “Do you remember where you lost it?” “When we find blood and tire marks. We’ll find the phone”. He hoped it would be the only thing they’d find. No the…. Thing. He had no words. Looked like a zombie. Or an infected. Yes there is a difference. Too long a debate to have here.

He couldn’t drive. Not in his state. She was driving. He had taken a day off. Couldn’t go to work in that state. He tried to sleep to the sound of the rain still falling. To her smooth driving. She took one too. For him. He liked her. Wouldn’t say it though. Doesn’t have the balls to do so. Wuss. He hoped they wouldn’t find anything. Hoped the rain had washed away the traces. Hoped it had been a bad dream. They stopped. “We’re here”, she said. Wishful thinking. It was still raining. He got out with an umbrella. He didn’t want to. She got out to. Huddle next to him under the umbrella. The top of her head reached his shoulders. He liked her.

They walked slowly. Wary of the surroundings. Trying to hear something over the sound of the rain. Fat chance. Rain muffled everything. For better. Or worse. The blood was still here. Still wet. The rain keeping it from drying. Flashes of the night before came. He winced. Gripped the umbrella tighter. Nutted up. Kept going. A black rectangular shape on the asphalt. His phone. Lucky. He got to it. Screen hadn’t cracked. Lucky. Flashlight still on. Lucky. It had survived the fall, being rained on all night. It was a trooper. Best phone he had in years.

He couldn’t see it. Couldn’t have gotten far. Not having legs anymore. Saw a trail of blood going into the grass on his right. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. So much nope. Before two things hid in high grass. Pokémons. Velociraptors. And now… That thing. They stood in the rain. It intensified. Good timing. Lacked a cello though. He felt her shiver. Looked down on her. She was scared. He was scared. “Let’s go back. You found what you wanted.” “Yes let’s leave.”
The trip back was in silence. Speech is silver. Silence golden. Would’ve preferred speech. It felt like a tomb. The dull thudding of the rain. The radio turned on ever so slightly. The atmosphere was weird. Weird. Nobody snored this time at least. The golden moment was broken. “So… what happened yesterday?” “I don’t know. If there wasn’t the blood, I would’ve thought it a bad dream”. “And the wet phone, the cuts and bruises everywhere…” “Yes… That too… I don’t know what to make of it… It felt like something out of my zombie movies…” “Maybe it was a zombie”, she said with a smirk. “I have conflicting feelings if it was… But it can’t be. It’s not possible.”

He loved zombies. Had read everything on the subject. On how to survive a zombie apocalypse. A neurological study of the zombie brain. A collection of shorts during a zombie apocalypse. The zombie illustrated guide over the years. The government apparently had a zombie contingent plan. Meticulous planning as to where to go in case of an attack. Loads of people wanted one. Nobody understood the consequences. “Must’ve been somebody high on bath salts. Heard about it once in Florida.” “Yes Must’ve been that.”

The scenery passed in a blur. It was soothing. She could drive so smoothly. So smoothly. She was nice. He liked her. He closed his eyes. Said goodnight. Left the world of the waking. Drifted to the land of dreams. Seemed like a sound move right? Wrong.

The sky was wrong. The colours were wrong… What was odd… Oh right, the red and black scenery… Oh right this is a dream… How could he miss it? He recognized the scenery, it was from the town centre from where he was from. Nice little town. Dull though. He was with his old girlfriend. She was in black and red too. He had liked her. Loved her even. She hadn’t thought the same. It looked like Sin City, but with even less colours, if it were possible. They were going to see a movie, apparently. They were at a bus stop, but not one he would normally use. Odd. Weird. One bus passed. Windows tinted black. It didn’t stop. A second one. A third. A fourth. He knew that there were numerous different of them passing at this stop, but none of them stopping? He ran after one. The windows weren’t black, he could see inside and what he saw made him stop. He saw the dead. The dead were riding the bus. He saw missing limbs. Dislocated jaws. Eyeless sockets. They all turned to him. He was left behind. Gazing. He hadn’t run far. His ex was nowhere to be seen. He started to stress. He ran everywhere. Ran. Ran. Yelling her name. She had disappeared.

He was in a plain now. He didn’t recognize it this time. It wasn’t red and black. Dark yellow and block now. He was alone. A screech make the hair of his forearms stand up. He looked back. He saw it. Just the same as yesterday. Except its legs were healed. Not good. He ran. Didn’t think. Just ran. It Followed. Still screeching. Another could be heard. He saw another one to his right. PUPPIES. A third one came. Behind again. How do you do? The ground was treacherous. Filled with bumps. Holes. A minefield. He wasn’t fast. Not enough. They were gaining. He wanted to wake up. It wasn’t a dream. A nightmare.

The screeches were making him crazy. Crazy. They were gaining. Fast.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.
WAKE UP!

He was taken out of the dream. Brutally too. His left cheek was sore. Hot. Red. He was still in the car. They were stopped on the side of the road. She looked at him. Worried. Scared. Tears swelling. Why was she going to cry? What happened? He looked at his arms. Bruises. Bumps. Those weren’t there before. His hand was bleeding again. His elbow too. “What happened?” “I don’t know. You drifted to sleep, you started hitting yourself. You wouldn’t wake up. I was scared for you, so I smacked you. I’m so sorry.” “It was a nightmare… I think… “. She started sobbing. He felt bad. He made a girl cry. A girl he liked. He felt awful. The pain in his arms were nothing. His heart was bleeding. Stupid. He tried to reach her. Seatbelt got in the way. Idiot.

He untied it. Took her in his arms. She cradled her head on his chest. Crying away her fears. Her worries. They stayed there. The dull thudding of the rain. The radio turned on ever so slightly. Her muffled sobs. The atmosphere was weird. Weird.

Yet, the screeches were making him crazy. Crazy

[Alpha]

Greetings from beyond the grave. I'm the least satisfied with this chapter and thought of scratching it was a real issue. I needhelp here

Nothing on the news. Surprising? Yes. Nobody was missing. Nobody declared dead. Yet. He had run someone over. Nobody was missed. Was it really someone? Had he dreamed it? No. Wishful thinking. She had seen it. Thanks to the lightning. She had seen it.

It was a bad fall. Rain came every day. Giving respite only to clouds. Bringing in more rain. Typical fall. He didn’t mind. Gave him an excuse to be a loaf on the sofa. He didn’t need an excuse. But it was nice to have one. He couldn’t move much anyway. His fall. His self-inflicted pain. All that gave him an excuse. Goody. He didn’t want that one.

The jock was here too. He didn’t remember much from the night before. Didn’t bother him. He wondered about the bruises. They said he fell down the stairs. He laughed calling him a klutz. Bloody idiot. He landed on the chair next to him. Grabbed the remote. Changed the channel. “I was watching that Aaron.” “Maybe. But the game is on.” “You could’ve asked maybe”, tension in his voice was rising. He didn’t need this too. Not today. “Well, shoulda, woulda, coulda. Ya not gonna do anything about it? Not in your state.” The jock was pissed too. He hadn’t liked being left in the rain. Shame he didn’t get sick. Ravens vs Broncos. The game was promising.

It wasn’t. Ravens were getting pummelled. The Broncos were playing ugly. No talent. Breaking rules. Not getting called for it. Not fun to watch. The jock was ecstatic. He cheered the Broncos. Overacting horribly. He got up. Couldn’t stay much longer. “Ya sure ya don’t want to stay till the end?” “Yup, I’m starting to have a headache. I’m calling 20 bucks on a Ravens’ victory” “Seriously? Can’t say no to a sure win bet. Hey Lex, be careful, there are stairs between here and your room.” My Love. Lex. Hadn’t heard that nickname for a while. It was short for Alex. It was stupid to shorten a four letter name. No matter. He gave him the middle finger while limping away. The jock snickered. Got back in the game.

He passed by his roommates’ door. A biohazard sign. A keep out. A vault symbol. A name tag saying “Hello, my name is Deirdre”. Odd name. Her name. Her father liked an old Fantasy author. He had named his daughter after one of the characters. It was a nice name. The door looked like it belonged to a teenager. She hadn’t lost her childish side. Their flat was nice. Two stories. Family room, kitchen on the bottom floor. Three room on the second. One was gaming and working room. It was a nice flat. Rent was cheap. Landlady nice. It was a dream.

He entered his room. Not big. Really clustered. Book shelves on every wall. Overflowing. Books everywhere. Mangas. Comics. CDs. Must be the only one of his generation still buying them. His gloss red bass sitting in a corner. She was named Lust. He named everything he owned. Got too attached to them. He couldn’t play it in his state. Couldn’t even play video games. The gash in his palm raw. Hurts. Simply laid in bed. Put some Neil Young. Wanting to sleep.
He couldn’t. The nightmare still here. He wished he didn’t remember it. The screeches were making him crazy. The room was quiet. The CD was finished. He got up. Changed it. Twisted Sister would wake him up. Turned the volume up. He couldn’t stay in bed. Decided to try some gaming. He felt something cold in his neck. A cold Coke. “Keep that racket down. I can’t concentrate on my gaming”, she laughed. “You suck at video games, with or without music. So doesn’t change a thing.” “I do not. Gimme back the Coke, you don’t deserve it!” “Too late. It’s mine now.”

She was playful. He teased her. She was good at video games. Better than most. “You going to try to play? With that hand?” “You got to nut up or shut up. Not going to affect my gameplay. Hopefully.” “Stop it with the lame movie quotes. And I can’t nut up…” “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” “SHTAP!” “NEVER!” His phone vibrated. They heard a barely muffled curse. Sports notification. He yelled: “Jock, you owe me 20 bucks.” “Eat a sock.” “Ok but you still owe me twenty euros.” He could hear the jock grumbling. Idiot.

He had turned back to the news. He went back to his game. His hand was screaming. It felt good. Pain is a way to know that you are still alive. It was only an information to his brain. He didn’t feel much emotions. Cared little for life. Adrenaline made it worthwhile. Sometimes. Suicide? Too troublesome. Not for him. For the others. They are the ones who hurt afterwards. Who gain the pain. Music was nice. Allowed one to escape reality. Another notification. Riots somewhere. Boring. Continued playing.

“LEX! DEIRDRE! Come here!” He yelled other the music. Impressive feat. Fear could be heard in his voice. Odd. He limped to the family room. She was already there. Unmoving. He felt tension in the room. Terrorist attack? No. Riots. Incredibly violent riots. Has a policeman shot another black guy? No. It wasn’t in the US. Where was it? London… Paris… Munich…. Luxembourg…. Washington D.C…. Sydney… All major cities in the world…. What kind of riot was this? The images were blurry. Cameramen running away. Still filming. He fell. Someone attacked him. Camera still rolling. He was being bitten. His screams rang loudly. The network cut the feed. Static. Static. Static. A message appeared. We are sorry for the inconvenience. The network will be back up shortly.

The channel switched. Static. Switched. Static. Switched. A TV reality. Switched. A message saying sorry. Switched. Static. The static was a statement. Something was wrong. ”Deirdre, get the laptop in my room.” She simply stood there. Fish eyed. “NOW!” Her stupor ended. Got her senses back. Raced to his room. “Lex… What is happening? Why did you yell at her?” Aaron was white. Like a sheet. He was shivering. “How could I know? I’m as aware as you are. To get her out of the shock, and to get my laptop.” “Why?” “Internet should still be up. Should have more information. Check the pantry and fridge. Do an inventory of what we have.” “Why?” “JUST DO IT!”

He was taken aback by the tone. Alex never yelled. Never got angry. Always calm calculating. Nerves of steel. Or so he thought. Alex was normally calm. He was more scared than angry. The pain, lack of sleep. Eating at his nerves. He couldn’t be scared. Someone had to do something. Didn’t like screaming. Made the message pass though. Aaron got up. Went to the fridge. His roommate came back with his laptop. “Thanks.” “What do you think is happening?” “Well… I’ve got a theory…. A GAME THE…” “Not the time for your lame quotes.” She was scared. Angry. More scared. He wasn’t helping. “Sorry. It’s not natural. It’s not a riot. You saw the images.” He opened the laptop. Went online. “People are eating people. It’s a zombie apocalypse.” “Come on Alex. It’s not real. Zombies don’t exist!” “They actually do. They are part of the voodoo folklore. It seems odd, I know… But it does look like one at least.” He opened up a news page. Footage was on replay.

You could see. Man. Women. Children. Attacking others. Eating others. Leaving them there. Moving on. You couldn’t see much. What you could see was enough. She slammed the screen down. Couldn’t bear to see anymore. “What should we do?” “For now we must prepare. We have to go out and stock on food, medicine, water… The jock is doing stocks. Then we’ll need to go out. And buy stuff to prepare. We’ll need to go to a sports shop to buy some hiking gear too.” “Why hiking stuff?” “For now, we’ll try to weather it out here. Stocking in supplies. But things will go south and if so, we need to get some gear. We will be more comfortable and better prepared.” “How do you know all of this? Don’t tell me its’ from a movie or a book...” “Noooooo? Yes…”

“We’re doomed…”