Reality Bites [Rated M - IC]

[G]

Rated M for adult themes including but not limited to violence, blood, gore, naughty words, general mayhem and maybe even a little romance; if anybody survives long enough.

OOC (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509)

http://i.imgur.com/ji9xxHP.png

Reality Bites
A true-to-life Zombie Apocalypse RP.





http://i335.photobucket.com/albums/m450/mindless_invalid/chars.png

The Survivors

Jordan Reynolds (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509&p=2711929&viewfull=1#post2711929) by Sonic
Location:
Items/Equipment:
Injuries:

Daniel Grey Fretheim (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509&p=2714349&viewfull=1#post2714349) by Dire Hoef
Location: His bar.
Items/Equipment: None.
Injuries: None.

Julie Smith (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509&p=2712981&viewfull=1#post2712981) by RoughDragon
Location: The city street.
Items/Equipment: Her purse, containing a water bottle and her hotel key.
Injuries: None.

Isobel Warren (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509&p=2712730&viewfull=1#post2712730) by G
Location: Paradise Highschool; Gates.
Items/Equipment: Backpack containing one lead and several coloured pencils, two ballpoint pens, a notebook, some textbooks, a water bottle and a lunchbox containing a packet of chips, a muesli bar and a chicken salad sandwich.
Injuries: None.

Angelica Hammer (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509&p=2712730&viewfull=1#post2712730) by G
Location: At home; residential area.
Items/Equipment: None.
Injuries: None.

River Moonbeam (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509&p=2712730&viewfull=1#post2712730) by G
Location: En Route to Paradise University.
Items/Equipment: One satchel containing several notebooks, Two pens, (one black, one red) Mobile Phone, Headphones, Wallet.
Injuries: None.

Jenny White (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509&p=2728289&viewfull=1#post2728289) by Naraness
Location: Starbucks.
Items/Equipment: Cell phone, keys, Chapstick, wallet.
Injuries: None.

Hiroyuki Elm (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509&p=2728289&viewfull=1#post2728289) by Naraness
Location: En route; Paradise Highschool.
Items/Equipment: His backpack containing five band-aids, some Neosporin, a compass, a whistle, a small Swiss army knife, and a Fruit Roll-up.His bike.
Injuries: None.

Anthony Hollins (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509&p=2730625&viewfull=1#post2730625) by SoulReaper
Location: His home.
Items/Equipment: A glass of whisky, a bowl of chicken soup, tv remote.
Injuries: None.

Cap'n Dave Atwood (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509&page=2&p=2734267&viewfull=1#post2734267) by Goodpie2
Location: The docks, aboard Westwind.
Items/Equipment: None.
Injuries: None.

Christopher McAdams (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509&page=2&p=2732276&viewfull=1#post2732276) by Cassiopia
Location: The Boulevard.
Items/Equipment: Canvas bag containing keys, phone, wallet. Three energy drinks, one open.
Injuries: None.

Kathryn Swanson (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509&page=2&p=2733536&viewfull=1#post2733536) by rabbit
Location:
Items/Equipment:
Injuries:

Juno Edelstein (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=79509&page=2&p=2735182&viewfull=1#post2735182) by Echo
Location:
Items/Equipment:
Injuries:




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Chapter One: Another Day in (Surfer's) Paradise.

March 1st, 2016.
Surfer's Paradise, New South Wales, Australia.

9:00 AM

The sun had well and truly risen on another beautiful, sweltering hot day on Australia's east coast. The holiday season drawing toward its end, the streets weren't as busy as they had been for the previous weeks, but there was still a decent amount of foot traffic around the many venues the cities central business district boasted. The tourists stood out instantly from the more relaxed locals, their tans fake or their skin red; underestimating the sun. Across the road, the beaches were already filling, the milling crowds of people broken up by the bright umbrellas and deck-chairs of the lifeguards, rescue-boards or rafts dug into the sand beside them. The surfers were further out, bobbing specks among the waves.

Several blocks back from the beach students were beginning to stream from buses into classrooms in the cities only public highschool; younger pupils escorted across the street to the primary school adjacent. The university was further out, a large mass of buildings with field and sports' pitch behind, among the residential areas.

It seemed a normal Monday; well, any normal day for Angelica at least, who, when she emerged from the cocoon she had created from her sheets during the night (which wouldn't be long, considering the steadily growing heat) planned to sit down at her computer with a bowl of coco-pops and a strong, sweet coffee and defeat that mutant bitch who'd killed her three times yesterday before she could discover the truth about her fathers' disappearance! The blanket-engulfed lump on the bed stirred, as though the sleeping blonde was dreaming of her inevitable victory.

-

On one of the large white buses that was delivering the students to their places of study, the overweight bus driver was turning up the radio, presumably to drown out the self-righteous babble of a university student a few seats behind him. The attempt failed, though, and the tinny voice of the presenter, talking about several accidents that had occurred in the area recently was overtaken by the girls' virulent speech.

"And not only that, but they also contain palm oil! So you're basically directly responsible for the deaths of up to five thousand orangutans every year!"

Isobel stared at the older girl with wide-eyed, nervous fascination as she finished her speech, grabbed the snack-packet of Doritos from Izzy's equally stunned classmate (whom she'd been lecturing) and marched up the isle, tossing it dramatically into the small waste-basket behind the drivers seat. The thirteen year old chanced a reassuring smile at the boy, who between the mouthful he'd just gotten and the realisation that his chips were gone, looked as though he might cry. As she alighted the bus Izzy glanced up at the girl through the window; she was glaring obstinately out the window, a frown on her face as though still upset at the incident. The younger girl shook her head, wondering why she would get so worked up over a snack...

"Hey, Sissy! What are you frowning over? Gonna cry about it?!" The bus pulled away, moving on to the University, and Izzy sighed as she turned to face the owner of the smug voice.

"Shut up, Ciara!" she responded to the young blonde before her, who was smiling as though very pleased with her initial remark. She just laughed at Izzy's retaliation, lifting a hand to brush through her hair as she turned to walk away.

Great comeback, Izzy, the brunette chided herself as she continued toward the school. She couldn't help but glance back at the welcoming, warm brown brick fence of the primary school. The highschool was surrounded by the tall, blue steel bars that had become the norm in recent years, and Izzy had to admit they were fitting. She was imprisoned here for six whole years! And barely a month in, she could already tell highschool was going to suck. With this thought, Izzy glanced at the retreating back of Ciara, and sighed.

Another day in Paradise.

[Cassiopeia]

http://i.imgur.com/F0MIq4F.jpg

"Aww come on!"
Frustrated, Chris threw his controller on his desk and sat up straight. He arched his back; gaming in a slouched position for so many straight hours takes its toll on your body. He took off his headphones and looked up at his loud buzzing ceiling fan, the noise of which was first drowned out by his game's music. Should get that fixed, he thought. But today's not that day! He yawned, stretched out again and took a glance at the alarm clock. Fuck! 9:01 AM already? Did he really game for that long? He should've realized he'd been going for a while when the sun had come up. He closed his game and opened up his university schedule. Next class starts at 11:00 AM. He scratched his head. Try and get an hour of sleep or run on energy drinks?

Energy drinks it is. He could always just sleep during lecture. Chris stood up and walked to the fridge. He sighed when he opened it, discovering he was all out. Fortunately, the supermarket just opened. He smelled his armpits. Yeah, definitely need to wear a different shirt. While taking his shirt off he walked to the laundry basket and picked up his cake-shirt. He took a whiff; yeah, we're good to go! He put it on, ran his fingers through his hair and picked up his canvas bag. Keys, phone, wallet? Check check check! He closed his dorm room behind him and set off to the supermarket.

Chris squinted his eyes. Damn, the sunlight was bright that day! While walking campus he took his phone out of his pocket and checked his messages.

Matt (1)
"U down 4 DnD 2nite @Ralph?"

Chris smirked. Last time he played Dungeons & Dragons, Ralph made a completely overpowered warlock and magically killed everyone in the party.

"Nah m8, gonna watch some MLG 2nite" he replied. He put his phone back in his pocket. He entered the supermarket and headed straight for the cooled drinks. He grabbed three cans of his favourite brand of energy drink and headed for the counter.
"Morning Jim," he greeted the store owner, who was seated on a stool listening to the radio.
"Morning," Jim replied. Chris threw some cash on the counter.
"I've got three today," he said, holding up the cans. Jim did a quick count of the cash and nodded.
"It's all good," he said, looking at Chris. "You're looking worse for wear."
"Ahh, yeah, I eh...'' Chris replied, putting his drinks in his canvas bag, "had to study all night for a test."
"Sure, sure," Jim answered uninterested. He turned back to face the radio. "Have a nice day."
"You too Jim."

Beep beep. Chris took out his phone again.

Matt (1)
"Hannah'll be there"

Chris sighed. Since when did Hannah like Dungeons & Dragons? Would he look desperate if he showed up to D&D just for Hannah? Without replying, he put his phone back in his pocket and walked to the boulevard. He found a bench to sit on, opened one of his energy cans and took a sip. The weather was really great that day. He should do this more often - being awake at 9 AM.

[Soulio]

"No! Oh please no! No no no no no no no no no!" Anthony pleaded, on the verge of tears. Directly in front of him were three computer monitors, and each one was currently showing an alert, informing Anthony that his computer encountered a fatal error.

"Days... days of work... gone," he said as he slumped to his knees. His boss was going to kill him. His laptop didn't have a copy on it, so he was quite literally shit out of luck.

Not one to bitch and moan for long periods of time, doing nothing, he instead got back up, and rebooted his computer. It'd take a few hours, so he decided that, in the mean time, he'd make himself some food, and get his drink on. He'd explain the predicament to his boss later.

His apartment wasn't large by any means. It was practically a studio, but that worked for him, considering that he lived alone. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the freezer and a glass, he poured a small amount into his cup and took a deep swig from the bottle before setting it aside. He then grabbed a pot from a cupboard, a few cans of soup broth from another, and then some various vegetables and one chicken breast to prepare, going about cutting (and cooking, in the chickens case) and tossing it into the pot to make some homemade chicken soup. The television was on in the background, simple background noise for the man as he made his dinner.

As he finished his task and let the soup sit to finish, he plopped down on his couch, flipping through the channels as he sipped what was now a pleasant juice. He had abandoned the whiskey after two cups made him sway.

"Well... at least I have chicken... soup," he said, chuckling to himself as he referenced one rather old internet meme.

[Dire Hoef]

Caged Slaves to the Alcohol


Pouring himself a glass of family scotch, a crudely dressed Norwegian found solace behind the bar. It was definitely a silent morning. The sun having been up for an hour or so, and the limelight of the nightlife having died off for the most part. Everything seemed to settle down to a grueling crawl. Few men lingering here and there throughout the bar drinking away their sorrows. 'Funny,' thought the Norwegian man, 'I was once like those poor bastards once... Drinking away my sorrows because some bitch cheated on me for another man... Piece a shit he was..'

Taking the edge of the glass to his lips, he ingested a good half-a-pint before settling the glass back down upon the bar-counter relieving a sigh of good taste.

The Norwegian, whom his name was Daniel Gray Fretheim, quietly took in the sights of the bar. Reddish-black leather upon the seats that were awkwardly set in rows along the adjacent wall that wasn't directly facing him─more off to his left. Then, the staircase leading up onto the street was to his right. The sounds of cars and other such obscurities were muffled by the door that separated the two worlds. Frankly, Daniel loved the split between two worlds. He wanted this sort of peace for a little while now, but he hadn't fully enjoyed the peace since there was always a hefty number of customers. Nevertheless, the atmosphere was rather calm and melancholy. Seemed like the lingering men, and not even him, wanted to destroy the quietness that has enveloped the entire bar. Then again, there was always the same old obscene and obscure individual who would disturb the peace and force Daniel to kick his ass out.

The door, that separated the two worlds, opened revealing a sharply dressed man. "Speak of the devil," mumbled Daniel as he finished his glass of family scotch.

"Daniel my cousin," called the sharply dressed man as he came to the bar-counter with a wide smile upon his face, "How goes business?"

Daniel grumbled frustratingly, "Slå den du fucking pansy..."

The man, who appeared to be Bearnard, was taken aback by this, "Oh come now cousin you mustn't be so harsh!" Bearnard would crack a laugh before slipping out his cellphone and puts himself on the verge of answering a call.

Daniel watches, clearly unpleased with this man's intrusion. "If you have something to say then say it, or else get the fuck out of my bar... Bearnard..."

Bearnard smirked, "I just came to say hello is all. No need to get snappy."

Daniel growled almost primal-like to signal for Bearnard to leave. Bearnard, gladly, took the hint and departed with a Norwegian goodbye. 'Seriously hate that guy... Corporate assholes thinking they are bigshots! What about the middle-man huh? What about the man who supplies you the money!?'

Daniel, just from the inner dialogue alone, had deep-seeded anger against Bearnard and his profession. And, to this, this would soil his mood for the rest of the day. If it wasn't going to be soiled already.

[Naraness]

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6:30 AM..

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

The sharp noises grated on the boy's ears, making him cringe and curl up tighter under the blankets. Oh man, I probably should've have stayed up so late last night." Thoughts of regret spun around his mind as he forced his head up to look around the room. His laptop laid on the bedside table a few inches from his fingertips, just out of reach. The screen was still on, displaying a slightly reddened scene of a pixilated Minecraft tunnel. The screen showed the words 'You have died.' Apparently, he had fallen asleep and been killed by a zombie, or some other hostile mob.

His tired eyes flicked over to the alarm clock. The red LEDs burned brightly in the dark room. Without another thought, his fingertips slipped around to the back of the clock and switched the alarm off. His head sunk to the pillow, his arm draped limply over the table, and the teenager fell back asleep.


..9:00 AM

"Hiroyuki Sean Elm!"

More frightening than the sound of any alarm clock was the sound of his mother's voice. Hiro was startled awake as his mother hurried in, her eyes aflame. "Why aren't you up yet?! You told me 'no more of this!'" The full-blooded Japanese woman's eyes were burning with stress and disappointment. She threw her hands up. "Fourteen years, I've raised you. You never had problems getting up for school before your father bought you that darn computer!" She grabbed his arm, yanking him to his feet. Hiro stumbled, his dark hair splayed messily across his face and sticking up at odd angles.

"Sorry, mom..." Hiro cringed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I swear I didn't mean to."

The moment the words left his lips, his mother pointed at the laptop on the table, innocently propped up and still displaying the proof of his own decision to stay up late. "You didn't mean to, huh?" She rolled her eyes, setting her hands on her hips. Hiro could tell she'd just gotten up by the way her salt-and-pepper hair was uncombed and still in it's overnight braid. "Well you're lucky we live two miles from the school. I have to get to a meeting in ten minutes.. You missed the bus, so you can ride your bike. Get your things, brush your hair, and get your butt to school."

Hiro nodded swiftly, his limp black hair flopping back and forth as he did so.

A smile cracked at his mother's lips. She reached out, putting a hand behind his head. With a tired sigh, she pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Be safe, pay attention today. Your lunch is packed on the counter. I love you, and I'll have quinoa ready for dinner tonight, alright?" Hiro's eyes alit as he heard this, and he nodded again with vigor. "Alright then, get dressed and get out of here." She ruffled his hair, messing it up even further. Grinning, Hiroyuki ducked and evaded her, heading towards the closet. His mother stepped towards the door, pointing a finger at him to enunciate the point on her lips. "And for God's sake, comb your hair."

Hiro laughed, turning away as she shut the door with a smile. As quickly as he could, he got dressed in the first pair of clothes he could find. His backpack was leaned up on the wall, right where he'd left it when he came home on Friday night. Only his homework had been touched, which was all over his messy desk nearby. Hiroyuki grabbed all the papers he needed, stuffing them into the backpack with a slight crumple. He ran his fingers through his hair, grabbed the bag, and hurried out the door. On the way through the kitchen he snatched the Ziploc bag holding his PB&J lunch.

"Hey, hey, hey, you need to eat something." His mom chided, coming over with a piece of toast she'd buttered up.

"Okay, thanks mom!" Hiro grabbed the dainty breakfast and popped it in his mouth, running out the door. "Bye!" He called, just about tripped as he went down the steps. Just inside the front yard gate was his two-speed bike. With toast in one hand, the backpack over his shoulder, and a stupid grin on his face, he started peddling towards his school; already five minutes late.



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9:02

Jen smiled brightly as she swung through the back door of her local Starbucks café. In Summers past, she might have gone there to get an ultra-whipped, all natural, coconut milk Frappuccino, but not now. She'd been working in this coffee shop for the past two years of her life, and she'd really never been happier. It was a simple job. It paid enough that she could go to college, and she liked the people there. Jenny knew all of her customers by name, and even knew what most of their favorite drinks were. Because of that, she was tipped well and she rarely had to work other jobs to make up for tuition and her little shopping splurges.

"Jenny!" The redhead at the counter smile, looking over at her.

"Hi, Anna." Jen smiled, her blonde curls bouncing behind her as she came in with a spring in her step. "How are things? I see the mornings are as busy as ever." Her eyes flicked over the coffee shop, humming with chatter, as she dropped her purse by the back door and grabbed her apron.

"Well, you know. It's all espressos and smoothies nowadays. George should be here to let me off my shift any minute." Anna looked at her with a sly grin tucked under her plum-colored lips. Jen blushed, shrugging. "You liiiike him." Anna teased, poking her friend with a perfectly manicured finger. "Admit it. You blush whenever he's here. Lucky you, you get to share a shift with him now that I'm here opening the store in the morning with Katie." A yawn stretched her mouth, proving that she'd been up for several hours already.

Jen laughed softly, washing her hands in the large, brushed-steel sink nearby. "Fine, you've got me. But don't tell him!" She giggled, wiping her hands. "It's just a crush, yeesh."

Anna smirked. "Knew it." She smacked the blonde with a dish rag, swaying back out to the thrall of customers in the front.

Jennifer just chuckled, smiling at her feet.

[Goodpie2]

Cap'n Dave grins as Reggie shouts from the other side of the door, waking him up.

"Dammit, Dave! You've gone too far this time! How in God's name am I supposed to get rid of all those crickets?"

"Turnabout's fair play, Reggie," he replied as he pulled on some clothes for the day. "I seem to remember an incident involving a crippled goat and three weasels on my boat last year. You have any idea how hard it was to get that goat out of the hold?"

There was a pause, then a chuckle. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to get the goat into the hold? At least with crickets, all you had to do was open the cages."

"Yeah, and all you've gotta do is bug bomb your house," Dave responded, then turned to brushing his teeth.

Reggie fell silent for a moment, as he heard the sounds of vigorous tooth brushing, then spoke once more.

"Except I'd still have the bodies of only you and God know how many crickets to clean out of the ventilation system."

"And I had to buy a new laptop. The goat ate my old one. Well, tried anyway. And the weasels made sure to ruin practically everything else. You got off easy, Reggie."

Finally, Cap'n Dave opened the door to see his friend.

"It's good to see you again, you old jackass," he said as he embraced the man who was his brother in all but blood.

"Same for you, Dave. I'm still making you pay for the cleanup, though."

"Ummm, no no no. I was down several thousand dollars after your goat bullshit. You're down a thousand tops. And it's four thousand crickets- same as the cost of the repairs. I was gonna do double the cost, but decided to have some mercy."

"Mercy, my ass. Next year I'm sinking your damned boat..." Reggie griped as the old men turned and began to walk down the hall.

"Yeah, yeah, just like every year. You know they'd never find your body if you did anything to the Westwind. So how's your nephew?"

"Doing fine, surprisingly enough. I keep expecting to hear that he's strangled one of those Yankee pussies, but he seems to fit in with them surprisingly well, even if the stores don't even sell Vegemite."

"That's good to hear. Better'n George, at any rate. I tell you..."

The conversation continued, just two old, semi-retired men, going about the business of catching up after a year apart.

[Roughdragon]

Julie jumped for the hundredth time, and landed gracefully, again going over and over her routine. She

took a swig of water, and emptied the bottle.

Again, she thought. She went through her act again, twirling, sliding, and counting the rhythm in her head.

One, two, one, two, jump! She made the final leap, but slipped and fell hard.

Dammit! She thought as she got up and rubbed her sore arm. I need a break, I’ve been doing this all morning. She toweled off her sweat and got into her black T-shirt and jeans. She slung her purse over her shoulder, which had a bottle of water and her hotel key inside. Since she moved to Australia, she made the habit of carrying a bottle of water with her at all times. The sweltering heat constantly demanded her to do so. She headed out the door of her hotel room, and made her way downstairs. She looked out the window, and took in the beautiful view of the Australian coast. She spotted people drinking near the pools, surfers cruising the tall, imposing waves. Many more little figures pushed past each other, going about their daily business. She pushed her way past the front door of the hotel, and made her way to the street, where those corner shops were. She didn’t plan to shop, since she didn’t have any money with her at the moment; she just wanted to take a walk, to see the sights of the resort city.

[Echo]

When Juno came to, the first two things she felt were pain and cold. It was a great way to start off her morning - at least she assumed it was, given the few streaks of light that shone past the grimy blinds hanging in front of a cracked window. It took her awhile to recollect her thoughts and absorb her surroundings. The roaring pain in her head that angrily pounded from deep within hardly allowed her to do so . She sat up carefully, groaning at her headache, before noticing her bare, frigid legs that laid neatly on the carpeted floors.

Where the hell are my pants? Juno looked around. The floors were mainly occupied by a variety of empty cups and bottles and sprinkled with confetti, which also decorated the odd person passed out here and there. That’s right - she was partying last night, and sometime during her drunken stupor she decided that her pants bothered her and spent the remainder of the festivities in a white t-shirt and black undergarments.

It wasn’t before long that Juno located the whereabouts of her jeans, crumpled on the floor down the hall, where the bedrooms were. Luckily for her, her knapsack was just about an arm’s length away, and Juno took the chance to chug down several Advil pills before making the trek to her pair of pants.

Juno’s staple leather jacket was being used as a blanket for some topless man. He reeked of alcohol, more so than Juno herself. She slowly picked up the article of clothing, relieved to find her phone still in the pocket, but disappointed at the disappearance of twenty bucks she had kept in there as well. Whatever. Her hand rummaged through the pants pocket of another unconscious party-goer on the couch. Jackpot. Juno put the fifty in her pocket to fill the void her stolen twenty had left behind. Her pocket was much happier now.

After quietly leaving the venue, Juno went about her normal after-party routine, which was mainly centered on getting rid of the all too familiar hangover. Sunglasses concealed her tired, bloodshot eyes from the world, though her sluggish posture and lack of focus said enough for itself. She checked the time - by the time she got to her beat up car, it was 9 AM, certainly much earlier than when she’d usually wake up. Her days normally start around the afternoon, near evening. At this point, Juno considered herself to be nocturnal.

The first stop she made was to her local Starbucks. It had become a tradition to get a caffeinated beverage after a long, rowdy night, though Juno remained unsure on whether or not they actually did anything to cure the post-party blues. Nevertheless, she loved starting her days off with the jolt of much needed energy they provided.

“Venti chai latte, extra foam. J-U-N-O. Juno. On the cup.” She handed the golden-haired barista the fifty bucks she swiped from the stranger earlier that morning, while her free hand massaged her temples. Juno caught a look of her reflection in the glass display of baked goods. Her dark-red lipstick had by then faded, and was slightly smudged to the side of her deathly pale face. Juno’s eyes rolled behind the mirror lens of her sunglasses as she attempted to clean up the edges of her lips.

[ｒａｂｂｉｔ]

Kathryn had been on the sand long before sunrise. She enjoyed the peace of the waves crashing against the shore and the air was as cool as it would be for the whole day. Sun salutations at dawn were something very special, and a few of the students she had accumulated in this paradise-town had joined her in the sand. They were departing now as the sun started to warm the air, water and sand, each student departing with a respectful bow, palms pressed together, and a few affectionate hugs.

“Travel safe!” “Peace be with you!” “Namaste!”

After smiling and waving after them, she padded her way through the warming sand to the edge of the water, wading into the low waves up to her thighs and doubling over to cup some of the water into her hands and splash it over her arms and shoulders. Her eyes scanned the waters, surfers bobbing just out past the breakers like buoys, and then farther out to the horizon, mind wandering as she enjoyed the push and pull of the waves around her legs, the air around her warming as the day truly broke, people spilling out onto the sand behind her. Her fingers darted down to tuck under and adjust her bikini (http://images.anthropologie.com/is/image/Anthropologie/38145066_012_b1?$pdp-detail-shot$) bottoms, snapping the elastic lightly as she let go; Kathryn’s dark brown hair and ivory skin were nicely sun-kissed by her stay here, hair shining with golden highlights and skin a few shades tanned and she liked the change. She leaned forward into the next wave and her tummy brushed the sand under her with the dive, but it wasn’t too far to deeper water, and her breathing control helper her stay under. She swam for a while, only long enough to enjoy the vision of skilled – and some not so – surfers from under and behind the waves. Salt water stung her eyes but it was something she’d done before, off the shore of her home town, and she was used to it.

After witnessing a particularly amusing whipe-out, Kathryn rose to the surface sputtering with laughter and extending her arms in long strokes to meet the surfer where he reclaimed his board. She grabbed ahold as he did and grinned across at him, asking, “You all right? Tossed pretty rough?”

“Had it worse,” he was local and his accent was a bit thick, but he was grinning back at her across the polyurethane and epoxy resin board; it smelled like pineapple sex wax and salt. “No fun if it isn’t a little rough.”

That made her laugh. It was a throaty laugh and she tossed her head back with it, her hair drifting out into the water and around her shoulders. She flashed him another grin and then she was gone, under the water and away, back to enjoying her swim.

It wasn’t too long before she was wading her way back up the beach, wringing the water out of her hair and water already drying on her skin, leaving specks and little trails of white salt in its wake. She tousled her hair as she came to her spot in the sand, kneeling on the six-by-six foot cotton tapestry (http://images.urbanoutfitters.com/is/image/UrbanOutfitters/37746898_086_d?$xlarge$&defaultImage=) she’d laid out under her towel and sitting on that while she towel-dried her hair and pressed it against her bathing suit to absorb what wet there was left.

Kathryn sat there for a while, legs crossed lotus-style, watching people settle in to their chosen places in the sand, unfurling towels, setting up umbrellas, unpacking snacks and slathering children in sun screen. She dug into her bag and pulled out a pack of nut-free trail mix, opening the zip-lock bag and popping a few pieces into her mouth, chewing slowly and continuing to watch others, the noise of the chatter growing with the body count. Soon, she was sitting alone in a throng of people, still in the bustle of beach-goers as she watched and listened to broken pieces of a dozen conversations. She wasn’t worried about where she needed to be as her flight didn’t leave until late afternoon and everything she needed sat next to her in her bags on the tapestry that she would tuck in to one of them later.

[Sonic]

Co-Post Between Sonic and G

Jordan Reynolds tossed a tissue paper into the disposable bin abreast his bed, pulled his pants up, and sojourned to the washroom to unspermify his fingers. He flicked the light switch. A pathetic glow emitted from the incandescent bulb that seemed to be hanged—rather than hung—from the ceiling. Jordan Reynolds dipped his hands into the concave of the sink, and rinsed thoroughly.

When he had finished, he returned to the computer he had divorced the night before. The screen showed his desktop: a somehow amorphous picture of Lois Griffin assuming the doggy position, her butt towards Jordan. The latter, having seen this picture every day for the last five years, was unfazed. Indeed, a part of him wondered if it was time to change his desktop picture; to something more wholesome, perhaps.

He imagined writing a to-do list and placed “Change Desktop Image” at the number one task that required his attention. However, like all things, he would probably put it off until it was deemed to be an unequivocal imperative. For now, he would play some videogames. Afterwards, he would watch some Hentai—the dividends that the Japanese had handed over after their defeat at the end of the Second War.

He chuckled at the joke; inappropriate as it was, although Jordan didn’t care much for political correctness, nope, no thank you Obama. He laughed again, as if the President were in his room to snub directly, and double-clicked an icon in the top right corner. A few seconds later, a picture of the Marvel Universe characters popped up: Spidey, Iron-Man, Cap, etc. etc. Jordan stared abstractedly at the screen. He then logged into his account.

From outside, ropes of sunlight fell through the curtains and whipped Jordan’s floor. He paid no attention to the gilded scars left on his carpet. Before entering his first battle of the day, he decided to send Hammer a message. No particular reason, really. Later he would wonder why he had even done it. But, in any case, he did. The message went something like this:

Hey…wanna play MARVEL?

Hammer was someone Jordan had met online. He didn’t know anything other than her surname, which meant that she could have been male, female, black, white, Asian or whatever. Jordan hoped Hammer was a girl, of course. There was something erotic about talking to a mystery woman online. He smiled to himself and if anyone were to see him they would notice a sheep in creep’s clothing.

-

As her computer gave the two-tone jingle that signified a new message, the blanket-lump stirred again. The blonde within didn't bother to make the bed as she dragged herself free of the sheets - what was the point, when they'd just get messed up again that night? She dragged her feet toward the kitchen, flicking on the kettle and spooning instant coffee into a large mug. Two spoons coffee, three spoons sugar; strong and sweet, and who cared if it wasn't proper, ground stuff. As long as it was caffeinated it would do fine.

Liquid breakfast in hand, she turned for the computer, scooping a packet of tailor-made cigarettes from her bedside table as she did so. She flicked open the packet, pulling one from it with her teeth, and tossed it down beside her keyboard.

Hey... wanna play MARVEL? she read, and the girl grinned, lighting her smoke before speedily typing a response.

Sure, why not. Logging in now.

She pulled her headset over her ears, effectively blocking out the sound of the real world in exchange for the theme music that blared into life with the loading screen.

I'll get Elton in on it too. I've got my mic fixed, voice chat?

Elton - another of the friends she gamed with, and had never met, was quick to respond to her message to him, saying he would log in soon.

Voice chat wasn’t something Jordan was all too comfortable with. Not because of any Internet safety rules—Jordan often turned his mic on when playing PVP—however, somehow he thought that if he turned his mic on with Hammer then there was a possibility that the illusion he had made would be broken. Prior to this chance possibility he had always liked to assume that Hammer was female; however, he couldn’t do that anymore if it turned out that Hammer had a deep, baritone, mafia-boss-like voice could he?

Sorry, my mic is broken, he lied.

Perhaps that wasn’t the best way to handle the situation. He had known Hammer for a while now—in the online world, at least—and so he figured that eventually, as their friendship became more serious, he’d have to know if Hammer was a boy or a girl.

“You’ve got a tough job, Professor Oak.” Jordan muttered.

From his bedroom, he heard the downstairs door open and close; the signal that his mother had just returned from the hospital. He left his chair and went to stand at the top of the bannisters. His field of vision caught the presence of a lady who looked well beyond her years. Normally an observer would say of a woman that she had been beautiful once, but Jordan doubted his mother had ever received such a candid review. She had black hair, like his, but that was the only good thing about her. Her nose was large and hooked below her lips, she had warts around her mouth, and her blue eyes looked like the color a white guy’s skin turned into when he was deprived of oxygen. She was still in her hospital garments. Jordan slowly closed his bedroom door.

He returned to his computer screen. It had entered sleep mode. From the obsidian square that was his screen, a sinewy figure stared back at him. Although Jordan had been disapproving of his mother’s appearance it wasn’t like he was better off. Other than the warts, Jordan was a spitting image of her: big nose, black hair, blue eyes that resembled the skin of a choking white guy. His arms and legs were pretty thin, as well, like the width of a bandage.

He moved his mouse. The Marvel Universe images returned. For the first time Jordan noticed the sentence prior to Hammer’s invitation to voice chat.

I’ll get Elton in on it, too.

Another person that Jordan had spoken extensively to online, but whose identity was about as clear as the Joker’s. Still, he felt more comfortable speaking with Elton than he did with Hammer. No reason in particular; just because.

He typed: Tell Elton to pick a Healer. We fucking need one in our team.

“Jordan?”

Jordan averted his gaze from the computer screen to the woman standing at the threshold of his bedroom door. “Yeah, mom?” he answered. Her large nose seemed to gesture towards him.



“I don’t feel very good. Could you make yourself something to eat? I’m going to lie down.”

True, she looked horrible: worst than usual. Her skin was paler—was that even possible?—and her eyes seemed as though they would pop out her sockets any moments now. “Sure, mom.” He replied. She nodded—no smile—and walked to the room adjacent to Jordan’s.

Ugh…my mom’s sick. Guess who’s on Doctor duty today. He typed the message, but paused before sending it. He bit his lip and added something else: Hey, we’ve known each other for a while, but I just realized that I don’t know much about you…or Elton. Pause. Then: You're not some cyber demon like that chick in Unfriended, are you? xD XD

Genius, Jordan. Pure genius.

[G]

9:30am

The Boulevard
Chris / River


The peaceful city soundtrack of cars passing, people's distant conversations and the tramping of feet, or clacking of heels on the pavement was suddenly disturbed by a piercing cry - it was the sound of a woman, screaming for help.

She tore between passers' by, uncaring who she jostled out of her path. Her feet were bare on the hot concrete, her hands, and the front of her white shirt smeared with streaks of bright crimson. A skeptical person would assume wine; another boozehound, fresh from an all-nighter.

A more open-minded - or maybe paranoid - person would recognise it as fresh blood.

"Heeeeelp!" she wailed, the word nearly unintelligible. "Oh god, somebody! Heeeeelp!"

As is the nature of city-dwellers, nobody looked particularly inclined to rush to her aid. Instead, they watched her with wary fascination, as if she were merely a spectacle, placed there to break the monotony of their mundane mornings.

As she drew level with Chris, she stumbled, grazing her knees on the concrete footpath, and the fight seemed to suddenly leave her. She stayed where she knelt, breathing fast and hard, and burst into sobs.

"Oh... god, what have I... have I done..." she wept to herself, the words forced out between loud sobs.

Across the boulevard, a large yellow bus pulled up to allow the university students to exit.


-

Anthony's House


Anthony's channel surfing took him over several news channels, one consistency between them. There seemed to be a lot of accidents going on. Channel nine was reporting on a gruesome crash site, where the amount of blood and carnage was puzzling authorities, since there were no bodies to be found at the crash site. There was no question that the victims must have died at the scene - no one should have been able to walk away from it.

Ten News' busty blonde reporter was exclaiming about a scandal at the local morgue, where the mortician on duty had returned from a toilet break to find the most recently autopsied patient had disappeared. Aside from some knocked over furniture, there was no trace of the body. Again, police were baffled as they tried to find motive for such a crime.

The National News held a story of a grisly murder spree in Sydney, where, just hours before, a madman had torn through the bodies of three innocent civilians before being shot dead by police. It was suspected that he was under the influence of some sinister new party drug; testing was in progress to discover the substance that had caused him to fall into such a mania that he had eaten parts of his victims flesh!

As he watched, the channels finished their harrowing reports and moved on to the lighter stories that traditionally followed these type of things; a cat in Bondi had been taught to surf by its owners, in a video that had gone viral on social media. Watching the footage of the terrified looking feline clinging to the head of a surfboard, gazing wistfully at the land out of reach, it was clear there would be no more serious reports for now.


-

Daniel's Bar


As Bearnard left for the office (and, unbeknownst to him, the beginning of his own harrowing adventure) silence fell in the bar - aside from the occasional chime of the pokie machines, singing of a win. In the calm, the scotch-swilling bartender would be able to hear the sound of raspy breath.

Following it to it's source, he would find a young woman slouched in one of the bars' back booths, her long, disheveled locks of brown hair falling to obscure her face. She sat leaning against the wall, her knees curled to her stomach, feet resting on the seat beside her. Her chin was down, slumped against her chest. Her arm rested languidly on the table beside her, an overturned glass of a sticky red substance - probably a vodka raspberry - having fallen from it's grip to splash onto the table and floor. She was motionless, nothing to indicate she was conscious bar the sound of that wheezing intake of air.


-

Paradise High School
Izzy / Hiro.


Izzy was trying to pay attention. Really she was! But maths had never been her favourite subject, and the boy sitting right behind her was talking loudly to his friends, his voice drilling into her ears and drowning out the teachers' explanation of... whatever the heck it was he was scrawling on the board. When were they ever gonna use this stuff, anyway?!

"And then he bit me!" Ciara and her gaggle of girlfriends all gasped on queue, looking appropriately horrified and disgusted as the teen held out his arm, looking strangely triumphant; obviously having another reason to be the centre of attention was higher on his list of priorities than being bitten by a homeless man on the way to school that morning. Obviously he hadn't had a chance to sink his teeth in, before the young boy had made his escape, but though the bite was shallow it looked nasty, the skin beginning to take on a nasty shade of grey around the room.
"Keep that away from me!" Ciara wrinkled her nose, "disgusting!" As she turned her head away, her friends followed suit, and the boy looked rather forlorn.

He looks sort of sick.. he should probably go to the nurse. Issy thought, having been unable to resist turning to follow the conversation. But she wasn't the type to say something, and even less so when a sharp word from the teacher called her attention to the front again. Intent on her studies - or at least, not getting into trouble - she didn't witness the increasing paleness of the boys' face, or the moment when he drooped, his head falling to rest against the desk.


-

The City Street
Jenny / Julie / Juno




The radio blared through the coffee shop, having paused it's catchy pop music for a news break, and for anyone paying attention, the news was becoming increasingly worrying. Was it normal, for there to be so many accidents in just one morning? Sure, the revelry and recklessness that came part and parcel with a tourist town might mean an increased rate of accidents, and even fatalities - but even for a place like this, it seemed a little above the norm.

As if to accentuate that very point, the wail of an ambulance began outside, it's siren growing steadily louder as it raced down the main street of the city, where many of the shops and business were located. It didn't get far, though - though nothing seemed to hinder the vehicle, it swerved suddenly, and with a screech of tires and the smell of burning rubber, it began to careen out of control, directly into the path of an oncoming bus. The oncoming vehicles' driver swore, yanking the steering wheel to avoid the ambulance, and the bus, turned to quickly at too high a speed, first squealed to the left, and then tipped, it's side hitting the road with a tremendous crash.

The ambulance continued in it's erratic path, scattering the crowds on the sidewalk before it came to a violent halt as it collided with the window of the coffee shop. The shattering of glass and crunch of metal against brick could be heard at least a block away, amid the shocked screams of those who had been lucky enough not to be caught in the vehicles' warpath. Several had not shared the luck of the masses; a man lay in the street, his legs twisted in a way that made it clear they were broken, twitching violently. Behind him, two more bodies were motionless; one a young woman still in the heels and svelte, black dress she'd worn to a nightclub the evening before, the other an elderly gentleman, the remains of his bike twisted around him where he lay.

The siren continued its wail, though the sound was distorted; speakers or mechanism had been partially broken in the crash. The windshield was shattered, darkened from the inside with an ominous shade of red. Some brave souls edged closer, attempting to make out anyone alive still in the wreckage - things looked grim for the driver, but perhaps someone in the back? As if on queue, there was a thump at the closed door; just one at first. Then again, and again - a violent hammering that caused the onlookers to pause. No one ran to open it, yet, though some seemed as though they might at any second.


-

The Pier
Cap'n Dave


The shriek of the siren and the sound of its abrupt crash echoed a block over, to where the Westwind rocked softly in the water by the pier. The alarmed cries of the onlookers were barely audible over the continuing wail of the siren. Several heads nearby turned in that direction in interest, then went back about their business. The accident wasn't visible from the dock, and sirens weren't uncommon in the city. One woman paused a little longer, chewing her lip in concern, then muttered to the man loading fishing gear in the small motorboat beside them.

"What was that? Should we go check it out?"

Her partner shrugged, unphased.

"Go, if you like. I'll finish up - don't be long, though, I wanna get a good days' fish in!"

The woman nodded, rolling her eyes as she turned away. Clearly, she wasn't as excited as he for a day on the water.

"I'll just be a minute, okay?" She turned and started up the dock. It would take five minutes to investigate the noise, and it would bug her all day if she didn't.


-

The Shore
Kathryn


A shout from the waters' edge saw Kathryn sprayed with sand as two lifeguards raced past her, each clutching a bright red board under their respective arms.

"There!" a large woman in a lime green one piece and a large, floppy hat flapped her arms frantically toward the waves, her face frantic, "he went under, there!"

The lifeguards wasted no time, splashing through the shallows and diving atop their boards, paddling quickly out to the deeper water, where, after a brief search, one dived beneath the surface and returned with a white-faced boy in tow.

Moments later, they were hauling him onto the sand. The woman who'd alerted them hovered above the kneeling guards, trying to see what was happening. As they began CPR, she began to cry loudly; as the minutes ticked by, and he gave no response, she gave a last, loud sob and fainted, falling onto her back on the damp sand.


-

Online
Jordan / Hammer.


You're not some cyber demon like that chick in Unfriended are you? Hammer read, and chuckled to herself.

LOL. No, just your every day sort of gaming chick. No demons here! she tapped out her response.

"Hey, Hammer!" Elton's high-pitched voice sounded through her headphones, and her smile widened.

"Morning sunshine! Jordans' mike is dead, I'll let him know you're here. Oh! It's your turn to take a healer!"

Elton groaned, and Hammer smirked. He launched into his usual argument about how she never took that role, and why did he have to do it... but he submitted, in the end.

"I'm more use to us as a melee fighter, come on, you know that."

He muttered under his breath as she messaged Jordan, telling him that Elton was online and on board.

Hope your mum's okay, she finished, then turned her attention from the chat to the game.

In Jordans' room, the sound of the game's theme was broken by the crash of something - from the shattering that followed, maybe the china lamp beside his mums' bed - hitting the floor. There was a series of racking coughs, then a second thump - this one a heavy thud.


-

[ｒａｂｂｉｔ]

Kathryn continued to eat some more of her home made trail mix, then pulled her phone out of her tote bag and placed it on the tapestry beside her as she rifled through, pulled out her olive-drab motorcycle-style pants and set them aside, too, then her shoes ( http://www.orvis.com/orvis_assets/prodimg/5A7R1PW.jpg). Kathryn pulled her goldenrod-colored tee on over her head when she found it, fingers running over the black ribbed collar and sleeves to make sure fabric there was flat. She knotted it just below her sternum, keeping her belly exposed as she reapplied sunscreen to it, her legs and arms. Kathryn then picked up her phone and checked social media.

“Whoa!” Sputtering a little, Kathryn blew her lips together and batted some sand off her cheek. She looked up from her rose-gold cell phone, a clear life-proof case covering it, the video of a cat on a surf board playing across its screen, to follow the sight of the life guards dashing across the sand. She watched until they went into the water on their boards, then double-checked her travel status – no travel restrictions, still green, and her flight still scheduled as on time so far. Getting up, Kathryn padded over to where the woman was standing, her eyes eagerly scanning the water as the life guards worked.

“It’ll be all right,” Kathryn patted her shoulder and the heavy woman turned her head to her, eyes watery. She was trembling, even in the heat of the day, and Kathryn gave her a reassuring look. “They’re good at their jobs.”

A siren back in the city registered her attention for a moment but there was a growing throng of people gathering on the beach around the boy and life guards as they pulled from him from the surf, muttering to each other; there were a few cell phone cameras out, people expectant to film the heroic rescue or the morbid news. Kathryn tried to console the woman but she was too far gone, especially when it seemed as though the boy could not be saved.

“Ma’am… Oh!” She gasped as the woman collapsed and one of the life guards gave a brief look over his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

“I’ll get to her in a minute,” he said and Kathryn gave him an incredulous look as she knelt down beside the woman.

The onlookers loomed closer, pressing in against each other and buzzing with talk, “Is he breathing?” “Is he dead?” “Can’t they defibulate him?” “Are you still recording?”

Kathryn pat the woman’s cheek and tried to rouse her, but it seemed futile, and someone else came to her side and scooped the woman’s head into their lap. Kathryn stood and looked down at them, clutching the woman’s hat, having picked it up where it had fallen.

[Soulio]

Anthony looked in disgust at the news reports. It looked right off the page of an apocalyptic novel, and he was pretty sure it was just a really elaborate and well thought out movie advert. Get people riled up only to reveal it a few days before the movie is announced or whatever. And if it got the damn news convinced, well shit, he'd see that movie in a heartbeat!

He did enjoy the cat report though. Pretty amazing, what cats are capable of. He pushed himself up to his feet, checking his computer to see how far along it was, groaning when it was only at 12%.

"I need coffee..." he mumbled to himself, grabbing his coat and wallet before heading out the door. The walk to to the local Starbucks really wasn't that far, and besides, he hadn't been out of the house in three damn days. Even for an introvert like him, that was a bit much.
------
As he walked in, he took a deep whiff of the place, the scents of ground coffee and steaming milk filling his nostrils, overriding his senses. He already knew what he wanted to order, his all time favorite and only drink to get from the place.

He walked up to the barista, a cute girl named Jennifer, and placed his order.

"A grande Mocha Frappachino, please," he asked, smiling and placing three dollars in the tip jar. He suddenly heard a faint scream outside, but when he looked out all he saw was some girl who seemed to be bleeding from her arm, running down the street away from some unseen assailant.

"Crazy day today, huh?" he asked Jennifer, assuming she had seen the news as of recent.

[Sonic]

Jordan froze. He had heard the crash from his mother’s bedroom. It sounded as if a cabinet had been pushed over. Jordan had heard about mothers able to lift cars when their kids were trapped beneath them, but unless Wheel of Fortune was on Jordan didn’t expect that his mother should be feeling any shot of adrenaline right now.

“I’ll be right back”, he said to Hammer in his mic piece. He walked passed his door without hearing her reply. His mother’s door was at the left of the hallway; closed. He heard another crash. This time there was no doubt that it had come from behind her bedroom door. “Mom”, he called, surprised at how soft his voice was.

He knocked on the door with his knuckles. “Mom…” his voice only a whisper. “Are you okay?”

[Cassiopeia]

http://i.imgur.com/F0MIq4F.jpg

Chris closed his eyes. He let the warmth of the sun stroke his face as he enjoyed the morning wind. He wasn't too tired - yet - but the fresh air did do him good in regaining some energy. He took a deep breath.

His inner tranquility quickly got disturbed by a bloodcurdling scream. His heart jumped a little as Chrisopened his eyes and looked for the source. A seemingly mad woman fell to the floor in front of him. Chris looked around - what was going on? Was she a drunk? Was it a prank? Was it some kind of marketing stunt? He looked around to see if there were any cameras. Yes, plenty - smartphone cameras - but no professional crews. He looked at all the people with disgust. Why were most of them ignoring here? Or worse, why were half of them whipping out their phone and filming it? Why was nobody doing something?

Ironically enough, he didn't immediately feel the need to walk over to the woman and help her himself. That is, until he saw the blood on her. Unable to see if it was hers or not, he put down his energy drink and cautiously approached the woman. He took out his phone and dialed Triple Zero.
"Yeah, hi... We're gonna need an ambulance here... possibly police as well," he told the operator. "No she's breathing. She's covered in blood."
Chris takes a quick spin around to see his surroundings, brushing his hair with his fingertips, slightly trembling from adrenaline. He tells the operator in more detail on what part of the boulevard they are. The operator wants Chris to stay on the line.
"Yeah, sure, sure," Chris answers, taking a deep breath to calm himself a little. He slightly kneeled next to the woman, about two arms-lengths away from her.
"Ma'am...?" he asked carefully, afraid to come any closer. She looked hysterical - what if she had just seriously injured someone? He couldn't risk taking a swing from a madwoman.

[Dire Hoef]

http://i.imgur.com/cxl0QKw.png

Horrors Beneath the Skin


"What the fuck," Daniel would mutter under his breath as he stepped in close to examine the slouched woman. Daniel had mad his way from the counter to this back booth seeing that a young lady had, somehow, entered his bar without him really noticing. Maybe she was here during the nightly hours, and just didn't very much attention to her, or maybe it was something else entirely. Daniel didn't know, or really cared to think of a reason why she was here. He simply acknowledged her presence and went back to do his casual thing. However, upon leaving the woman to her lonesome, an older gentleman came over asking for a drink. Daniel smirks and called for the gentleman, "Hold on you old asshat!"

The older gentleman scoffed before returning his depressed state. Daniel, still feeling the awfully ominous presence of the young woman, would glance towards the young woman as he returned behind his counter.

[Naraness]

http://i1321.photobucket.com/albums/u550/Naraness/JennyWhite_zpste9dmarh.png


"J-U-N-O." Jennifer spelled the name aloud, guiding her sharpie in large loopy letters. "You got it, hun." She slapped a label on the cup and handed it off to a fellow barista who quickly got to work with the sweet, foamy beverage. Jen pressed a button and the register slid open with a chime. Her skilled hands quickly pulled bills and coins from the drawer. "Alrighty," She slid each bill between her hands as she counted aloud. "Twenty, forty, forty five, forty six dollars, and..." A quarter and two pennies jingled against each other. "...twenty seven cents is your change." With a sparkling smile, Jeniffer delivered the change and receipt neatly into Juno's hands. "Your order should be ready soon!"

With the current line of customers taken care of, Jeniffer took a moment to lean back and stretch. The back door creaked somewhere behind her, signalling that another employee had arrived. George? She couldn't help but wonder, remembering her conversation with Anna. The barista blushed, tucking a strand of thin blonde hair behind her ear.

Overhead, the music broke for a few minutes of news. The radio hosts talked back and forth about recent events. Jen didn't listen too intently. It was something about a shooting, something about a missing person... All the negativity these days drove her crazy. It wasn't like the world was ending. She rolled her eyes, chuckling softly at the thought. Life was pretty good... Why couldn't people just appreciate that and live to the fullest?

The front door chimed as a young man walked in, the front door spilling light into the cafe. She smiled as her eyes fell on him. It was always good to see familiar customers. Especially ones who smiled and gave good tips. "Good morning," She beamed as he approached. "What can I get for you?"

"A grande Mocha Frappachino, please," He said, smiling as he placed three dollars in the tip jar.

The corners of Jen's eyes crinkled as she grabbed her sharpie and a grande cup. "Anthony, right?" Her cursive writing flowed onto the side of the foam container. She heard him say something about the news, and she nodded, her blonde curls bobbing around her arms. "That's for sure. I hardly feel like listening to it these days..." She shrugged, passing the cup to George as he swung into the cafe. "Morning." She grinned, a flirty glint sneaking into her smile.

"Morning." He replied, the same glint sparkling back.

Turning back to Anthony, Jeniffer shook her head softly, still smiling. "Anything else I can get for you?" She glanced past him to the street, her eyes suddenly growing wide.

"Oh my- look out!" She screamed, thrusting her hand towards the customers closest to the windows.. But there was no time. The bus collided with the glass window and sent people sprawling over the floor. Glass shattered, covering every inch of the Starbucks. Jen shut her eyes instinctively, feeling bits and pieces collide harmlessly with her skin. Car alarms whined, and screams echoed over the streets.

Slowly, her heart pounding, Jen opened her eyes. People laid on the floor with blood pooled under them. Her jaw began to tremble, and tears formed behind her eyes. "Oh my God." Her hand flew to her mouth. Jeniffer rushed out from behind the counter, kneeling beside a man who was motionless on the tile floor. "Someone, get.. Get a phone, call for help." Her voice cracked feebly as she tried to feel for a heartbeat in the injured man. Try as she might, she felt nothing. "Oh my God, oh my.." Why couldn't she think of anything else to say? She ran her hands through her hair, trying to fight back the tears. "Oh God." She half-sobbed, trying to make sense of it all.



http://i1321.photobucket.com/albums/u550/Naraness/HiroyukiElm_zpsuode3bjw.png


The tardy bell was ringing just as Hiro slid into class, hoping not to be noticed. He chose a seat in the back and gently dropped his backpack at his feet. Thinking he'd gotten away with being late, he smiled and got his books out. Math wasn't exactly his favorite subject, but it was definitely in the top three. His dad was a wonderful teacher, and he'd helped Hiro through every mathematical hiccup he'd ever come across. His mom tried her best to help too, but... Well, she wasn't so great when it came to that stuff. On the other hand, she made a killer PB&J. The teenage boy already felt hungry for lunch.

"Late again, Mr. Elm?" The teacher, Mrs. Anderson, chided with a kind smile. Hiro smiled back, a blush rising to the tips of his ears. "Alright, let's get started, everyone."

With that, the boy grinned, happy as ever. It seemed that some of his teachers just couldn't be mad at him, and boy was he thankful! Or else he'd have been given detention for being late several times already. But what he lacked in promptness, he made up for by paying attention. His eyes were glued on the teacher and her chalkboard as class began. Hiro swiftly pulled out his notebook, and his pencil scratched at the paper, jotting down his every thought and note. He even went as far as to follow along with the teacher as she demonstrated math problems, and attempted to complete them before she did. Success came sparsely, but it was so sweet when it did!

In fact, Hiro was so caught up in the lesson that he didn't even notice the gaggle of girls gossiping a few seats away. Somewhere in his subconscious he knew that there was a younger boy among them, showing them something that made them recoil and murmur in concern. Hiro figured that someone had snuck a bug into the room again... I wish they'd shush so I could concentrate. A sigh escaped his lips and the corner of his mouth creased with a slight frown.

The voices soon quieted down, and the class returned to respectfully listening (Or at least, quietly not paying attention) to the teacher. Hiro was left once again with his thoughts, the notepad, and the increasingly repetitive math problems.

A soft thud awoke him from his thoughts, and he glanced over at the boy who had been garnering attention before. His head had sunk to the desk, and he was motionless. "Um... Mrs. Anderson?" Hiro hesitantly raised his hand. "I think... Billy fell asleep." It was strange, though. As he watched the boy, he couldn't see the rise and fall of his shoulders, as one would expect from a sleeping teenager. He didn't look like he was breathing. Hiro blinked a few times. Surely Billy just didn't look like he was breathing. He was probably fine. At least, that's what Hiro would have thought, if not for witnessing the terrible paleness that had overtaken his face. "I don't think he's okay." Concern spilled from Hiro's mouth.

[Roughdragon]

Julie continued to walk down the street, her purse swinging near her hips. She didn’t really know what she was going to see, she just wanted to explore. She’ll call a bus. She stood next to a bus stop, and waited there. She looked around, and saw a bus come around the street.

There it is, she thought. But something was wrong with the bus. It was swerving, the tires dragging on the asphalt. And it was careening directly towards her. She ran out of its way before it crashed into a nearby Starbucks, shattered glass exploding out like fragmentation. Julie stood up, shocked. She ran towards the shop. She carefully stepped through the window, and covered her mouth when she saw the destruction caused by the bus. She saw a blonde woman who was feeling for a man’s pulse start to cry. Julie didn’t know what to do. She saw the crashed bus, how the doors were still closed. She tried to look inside, and saw nothing but dead bodies, all bloody and bent from the crash.

Oh my God… Julie fell to her knees and started to retch, but she held it in. All of a sudden, she heard a loud pound on the bus door.

[Soulio]

Anthony turned just as Jennifer screamed, right in time to see the bus crash into the building, blasting grass and bits of metal and wood all over the room. He himself was pelted with the glass and metal shards, but by dumb luck he wasn't impaled or hurt by any of it. He was in a daze, the shaking of the building rattling his bones, numbing his ears to sound. Everything seemed like it was muffled, like it was underwater. His movements felt slow as if he were in jell-o, and his vision was blurry.

He had enough sense of mind to drop to his knees and get a bearing on himself, but it took a minute. It was Jennifer's sobbing that pulled him back, quite honestly. As he looked around, he was horrified to see the dead bodies of various patrons. Some he assumed were simply knocked out, but there were a few he definitely knew were dead. He could see shards of glass embedded into bodies, some metal and wood impaled on their arms, legs and chests. It was horrific.

When he heard the banging on the bus door, he jumped to his feet, barely managing to stay balanced in his post-accident state. He saw a woman looking on as well, and he tentatively walked up to the door, intending to open it when a figure suddenly popped up to his face. She looked... sick. Very sick. Nonetheless, it sent him backwards, making him land on his ass, and in the process cutting his hand moderately deep on a shard of glass.

"Son of a bitch!" he shouted, both from the figure scaring him, and from the pain of the injury. In the distance, he could hear the whining of police sirens, and what he assumed were ambulance sirens as well. People around the area were on their phones, so most likely at least one of them had already called the police, while others were taking videos and pictures, and others probably calling family and friends.

Anthony just wanted to go home now.

[Echo]

The barista that served Juno was, unlike herself, full of energy and ready to get get on with her day. It came as a wonder to her how anyone could be so alert so early in the morning, though it would be equally as likely that others would think the same about Juno’s lethargy. She and the barista seemed to be stark contrasts in terms of temperament, and the thought managed to effectively distract Juno from the thumping in her head, even if just for a moment. The headache returned as quickly as it left, after Juno walked to the far end of the store where patrons would wait for their order to arrive. She instead decided to focus on the calm hum of the radio playing from overhead speakers.

The news spoke of a bizarre string of accidents and related events involving injuries and deaths. It was strange, certainly, to have this sudden spike of alarming events. Despite the quivering tone of the announcer’s voice, and the sheer number of incidents being reported on air, it did little to warrant Juno’s concern. For all she knew, it could be simply a perplexing coincidence. Besides, she had her own life to worry about - notably her hangover, and how to rid herself of it. Perhaps she could follow the sound of the blaring ambulance sirens outside and ask them for their advice.

Or, instead, the ambulance came to her. As the vehicle crashed into the window at the front of the store, Juno jumped, falling on her behind as she instinctively rose her arms in front of her face, shielding it from the glass shards that flew her way upon its shattering.

Moments later, Juno managed to collect herself from her shaken state and bring her arms down, exposing her eyes to the grim sight sprawled in front of her. The distorted wail of the ambulance’s siren seemed to fade to the back of her mind as she gazed upon the warped bodies of the dead, the slow ooze of red liquid that seeped from underneath the casualties and van.

“Holy shit. Holy SHIT.” Juno managed to utter a few curse words in her state of shock. “Fuck!”

Slowly, she managed to get herself on her feet, although wobbled with every step, and headed towards the first person she saw that could’ve survived the impact. However, by the time she found one nearby, he was already being tended to by the aforementioned barista, with tears streaming down her face.

Another man tended to the thumping at the ambulance’s door, and seemed to be very taken aback to whatever popped out at him from inside. He cursed, falling on the floor behind him, which piqued Juno’s curiosity. It wasn’t exactly a good time for it, but she carefully motioned towards the vehicle, dodging shards of glass on the floor.

“Wha-what is that inside there?”

[G]

The Shore
Kathryn



Behind her, one of the lifeguards was sitting back on his heels, looking grim. The other continued his attempts to resuscitate the boy; it was illegal, of course, for him to stop without a paramedic there to declare the child legally dead, but from his partners' expression, they both knew it was useless. The boy's lips were tinged with blue, his body motionless.

Indeed, the lifeguard watching seemed too struck by the situation to think to move back the throng of people that crowded forward to watch. As Kathryn looked down at the large, unconscious woman, a shocked shriek rang out from one of the onlookers at the horror captured on their tiny mobile screen - as the lifeguard leaned in to breath once more into the boys mouth, his eyes had shot open; the pupils a sickly, off-white, like the colour had been drained from them. He had opened his mouth wide, and clamped his teeth around his would-be rescuers lips. The man let out a strangled cry, unable to scream with his mouth clamped shut, and struggled to free himself as the boy closed his eyes, letting out a long, crooning moan as he began to chew. He reached up, clinging to the mans' head, as the people around them began to scatter in horror.



-

Paradise High School
Izzy / Hiro.


"I don't think he's okay..."

The concerned statement pulled Izzy's attention from the front of the class (let's face it, it hadn't been all that concreted there anyway) to turn again to the back of the room, first at the source of the voice - a boy her age who she remembered was named Hiro, though she didn't know him well enough to know any more than that - and then to the subject of his ashen-faced expression. The full-of-himself boy who'd just a moment ago been boisterously, and proudly showing off that morning's battle wound was slumped on his desk, motionless.

"Asleep in class again, Billy Baron!" The teachers' initial reaction was stern as she strode over to rap her knuckles sharply on the desk beside the boys down-turned face, clearly not sharing Hiro's concern.

"Billy?" The woman frowned, then reached out a hand to grasp the boys' shoulder, giving it a light shake. When he made no response, her expression paled to match Hiro's own, and she shook him a little more firmly.

A raspy, muffled breath came then from the otherwise motionless boy, and Mrs. Anderson's relief was evident, though the worry didn't disappear from her face. "Ciara, call the nurse. No, don't gather over here!" she halted several students who had stood up from their chairs, approaching the distraction with interest, "we don't know if it's contagious, whatever is wrong with him. Did anyone know he was ill? He seemed fine when he came in this morning..."

The last words were a statement to herself, it seemed. Ciara, obviously reluctant to leave for the sickbay without first finding out what the gossip was, approached the teacher, an eager-to-help expression on her face.

"A homeless man bit him on the way to school this morning. I saw it on his arm," she pointed, "maybe he's got some kind of weird STI or something." Her fan club giggled, though it was clear some of their hearts weren't in it.

"Bit him! That should definitely have been disinfecte... ARGH!"

Everything happened in a few short seconds - Mrs. Anderson reached out to turn over Billy's arm, where the bite was revealed to have grown septic in the short time since the students had seen it last - the skin was black and appeared almost rotten, and the wound itself was a bitter, angry red. At the same time, Billy had shot upright, lunging upwards to fix his teeth on the teachers' exposed collarbone, gnawing hungrily into the soft skin. Ciara screamed and stumbled backward, falling over the chair behind her to sprawl on the floor. For a moment, it seemed certain that the struggling maths' teacher would be able to fight her student off, but her unwillingness to actually physically hurt him teamed with her absolute shock at the situation caused her to panic instead, and blood was streaming down the front of her sundress thick and fast, the colour draining from her face. The class had erupted into a panic, the general line of thought seeming to be - run! Though some pupils, Izzy included, still sat motionless in their seats, staring at the scene like deer into headlights.

The teacher collapsed, and Billy went down with her, still latched on with his teeth to her neck. The boy looked up, cheeks stuffed with Mrs. Anderson, to peer around the room, then descended for another bite.



-

The City Street
Anthony / Jen / Juno / Julie


As some officers were quickly moving to secure the area, two more were approaching the wrecked ambulance. They moved cautiously but quickly; the battering from inside the closed back doors was growing more frantic, and it seemed only evident to assume someone was gravely injured inside. It didn't seem to have occured to either of them that the ambulance doors would surely easily unlock from within, but perhaps they had thought of that, and simply assumed the injured person was panicked, unable to think reasonably.

They were at least partially right.

Anyone peering from the shattered front window of the Starbucks would have a clear view of what happened as the first officer reached the ambulance, his arm outstretched to open the left hand door. No sooner than the latch was freed, both doors burst open with incredible force, and the man was knocked backward as a figure from within - a lean woman in a flimsy hospital gown - leapt from the back and atop him, tearing at his vest in a futile attack - the Kevlar was too strong for her hands to break through. The officer's partner, close behind, panicked, scrabbling for his taser. Lifting the weapon, he shot it at the enraged patient, heedless of the fact that his friend, in such proximity, would surely feel the current too. But though both shook and trembled with the force of the electricity, only the officer went limp; perhaps it was a blessing, for the woman leaned down to latch her mouth over his face, tearing away the mans' nose and part of his cheek with an animalistic strength far greater than she should have possessed. The remaining policeman took several steps backward, unconsciously dropping the weapon he held before cowardice and shock got the better of him, and he turned tail and fled through the crowd. The tazer skidded along the ground, coming to a halt not far from the coffee shops shattered window as the people inside began to react to the horror before them, some fleeing out the window and down the street, some pushing further inside the shop.

On the street beyond, three formerly motionless figures began to stir where they lay.



-

Jordans' House


Hammers' eyes glinted with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as she heard Jordans' voice echo through her earpieces. It was the first time she'd heard it - thought your mic was broken, she thought, a wry smile on her face.

"Okay!" she replied, deciding to tease him about it later, "but hurry up!"

There was no response from his mothers' room for a long moment; then a raspy, gasp of air sounded dully through the door, and a long moan. As Jordan knocked again, something struck the other side of the door in response.



-

The Boulevard
Chris / River


River was climbing off the bus, her curls tossed back and her chin held high, when she heard the shriek. Never one to let anything exciting happen without her being a part of it, her sharp eyes shot around the boulevard until she located the source of the noise, and began to stroll over.

"What have you done to her!?" she said in an accusing tone to the person closest (and therefore, in her quick-to-judge mind, responsible) ; Christopher.

"What happened, sweetheart? Don't worry, I won't let him hurt you!" she glared up at Chris as she knelt beside the woman, putting an arm around her shoulder before she realised the blood on the womans' shirt was staining her own. "Ugh," she made a disgusted noise and withdrew.

In Chris' ear, the phone clicked as the call inexplicably and abruptly died. If he tried to call back, he would get a busy tone.



-

Daniels' Bar

As Daniel glanced over, the woman stirred. Her eyes' flickered open - the same dull white as the boy from the beach. With a long, low moan, she struggled to stand, and in slow, shuffling steps, came forward. Her eyes fell on the man at the bar, and her mouth moved, teeth grinding over each other. Slowly, she began to move toward him, her gaze intent.

[Naraness]

http://i1321.photobucket.com/albums/u550/Naraness/HiroyukiElm_zpsuode3bjw.png

"Holy mother of Doritos!" Hiro leapt out of his seat faster than he thought possible. Somehow he wound up halfway across the room, yet his eyes stayed locked on the terrible, nightmarish thing in front of him. If he wasn't mistaken, Billy was eating Mrs. Anderson. There was blood everywhere. His mind was in a whirl, refusing to accept the reality in front of his very eyes. "Oh God." His body shook violently. All around the room, students were either running for their lives or frozen in place; apparently unable to take in what they were seeing just as he was. After a terrifying two seconds, Hiroyuki forced himself to act. "Don't just stand there!" He screamed, the words coming out much more girlishly than he anticipated. "Get up, RUN!" He reached for the nearest student, a girl wearing pigtails whose name he couldn't remember at the moment.

Hiro literally pulled her from her seat, hoping to wake her from her daze. "Go, go!" He shouted, pulling her towards the door. Hiro looked back, thinking to try and help the others. But the fear inside of him was too much. He couldn't do it. He looked at the red scene of death behind him, and knew that there was no way he would take another step back into the room. His life depended on getting away from Billy before he was done gnawing on Mrs. Anderson. That thought propelled him through the heavy door, taking his classmate with him. Something made him think of his backpack, and he snagged it on the way out.

"What's going on?" One of the other teachers called, hurrying towards them. "Please, everyone, calm down-"

"No, you don't understand!" Hiro shouted. "Billy, he, he, he turned into a zombie! He's eating Mrs. Anderson!" The words flew out of his mouth before he could think about their validity. Zombies didn't exist. They were a part of fantasy and movies. Surely there was some logical explanation for this. It had to be some rare virus from South America or something. It couldn't be zombies. "I swear, I'm not joking this time! We need to call the police!" Hiro got as far away from the door as he could. He continually glanced behind him and down the other hallways with his eyes as wide as dollar coins. He was terrified that more diseased people would jump out at him and sink their teeth into his flesh. It occurred to him that he was still holding onto the girl he'd pulled from her seat, and he released the death grip he had on her arm.

"S-sorry. We-we have to get out." He squeaked, eyes searching for an escape route. For some reason, he now felt responsible for his classmate as well.



http://i1321.photobucket.com/albums/u550/Naraness/JennyWhite_zpste9dmarh.png

Jenny knew she was easy to scare. She'd always known that. After all, she was a white city girl who worked at Starbucks, watched click flicks, and made chia berry smoothies on the weekends. She was the girl who screamed like a dying pelican whenever someone touched the bottom of her bare feet. But she'd never realized that she was a coward.

It screamed in her mind. You coward. Not because her heart was frantic. Not because the back of her head was growing cold. Not because her knees shook as she stood up. Jennifer knew she was a coward because her first thought was: I have to get out of here before all these people panic. As she turned her body away from the front door, her mind was numb. Utterly numb.

She walked, stumbled, back behind the counter, quietly grabbing her purse. You coward, you goddamn coward. You're going to run away and leave everyone here. Droplets of diluted mascara clung to her eyelashes, too heavy with shame to lift. Jennifer clutched her purse to her chest, careful not to let her keys jingle lest they garnered attention. Customers were approaching the window, dialing numbers on their phones, comforting each other... Her fellow employees, too. They weren't paying attention to her. She could slip out the back and get away before things got ugly.

You have five seats in your car. Her conscious rudely reminded her. Teeth gritted against one another, gears turning. Fine. She relented. The closest person was her last customer, who hadn't moved far. She hesitated, then made herself reach out and stretch her fingers to brush Anthony's shoulder. "Hey, look. If we don't leave, this whole block is going to panic and no one will get out. I have a car in the back alley, and you can come if you want." Her voice was soft and low, so no one would notice.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Police were arriving on scene, and she knew that soon enough they would lock down the café and no one would have the option of going home. Glancing around the café, there was only one other person close enough to the counter (and still alive) who she could reach out to. The girl named Juno. Did Jen even have time to get to her? Already, people were dying and their screams were sending painful shockwaves through the girl's diaphragm.

Soon the customers would start looking for a way out... The back entrance was their only bet. The time was now before it was too late. Jen's eyes were vibrant with urgency as she prompted a response from Anthony.

[Roughdragon]

Oh shit, oh shit… Julie turned away in sheer horror of what was happening to the officer, but she heard the sounds. Crunching, snapping, slurping. She couldn’t take it anymore. She broke for the back of the Starbucks, just trying to get away from that ambulance. She pushed through the door, and ended up behind the starbucks, where it seemed that there was no one else. She circled back around the side of the building and followed the street back down to her apartment, dodging and pushing past people. She made it back to her apartment, headed up the stairs, and locked the door. She sat on the bed, breathing heavily.
What the Hell was that? That woman was an animal…

[ｒａｂｂｉｔ]

Her attention was fixed on the unconscious woman, but every now and then Kathryn would glance toward the lifeguard and his continued attempts at resuscitation but she was looking back at the woman, wringing her hat in her hands and wondering if or when she would awake, when the shriek rang out across the sand of Paradise Beach. She froze a moment and then looked carefully over to where the boy lay, gorging himself on the lifeguard’s face – and not the way she had imagined when she’d first glanced the attractive man.

Her stomach turned and she was sick into the large woman’s hat.

She didn’t look back, but she could hear when the boy overturned the lifeguard’s unconscious body and moved from face to bare chest. The lifeguard’s partner was scrambling backward through the sand and struck against Kathryn’s legs, making her cry out, jolting her out of her stunned stupor and making her drop the hat full of sick. It landed in the sand next to the lifeguard as he scrambled to his feet and grabbed onto her, starting to haul her away from the scene.

“C’mon!” He cried out, pulling her. She stared at the back of his sun-bleached head of hair in shock. Shouldn’t he be doing something? Helping? Pulling the boy off of his partner? But that kind of carnage was not something people were used to and few would do much else but run.

Kathryn chanced a look back now, at the unconscious woman in the sand who was now, she saw, sitting up, roused by the screams. Now she was screaming, too and crawling urgently through the sand, trying to pry the boy off the now-dead lifeguard. Bile rushed its way burning up her throat as the sound of the boy turning on the woman reached her ears, tearing flesh and crushing bone. She choked it down.

Glancing around, she realized they were running past her spot on the beach and she wretched herself free of the blond lifeguard’s grasp, who didn’t look back at where he left her. Kathryn quickly tugged on her pants and picked up her backpack, scrambling to put it on and then sling her bag across her body. People around her were doing the same, fleeing or staring, filming the carnage, posting it online even as the woman was disemboweled on the beach. Maybe it was a hoax. But Kathryn had smelled the blood.

Her shoes and the bulk of the thin tapestry she’d laid out were in one hand and she held out her other hand for balance as she ran across the sand toward the city; when she reached concrete she gasped at the pain underfoot and bounced along on one foot, getting her shoe on and then the other. Chancing a glance backward, people were still clearing off the beach; she could see the crimson-soaked sand and she was sick again, leaning over a trashcan she lurched toward at the last minute, hands gripping the green metal, and it burned. Kathryn meant to let go, but she thought she saw the mauled lifeguard sitting up in the sand, near the crashing waves, and it made her freeze. Despite the Australian summer heat, Kathryn was cold.

[Dire Hoef]

http://i.imgur.com/cxl0QKw.png

Horrors Realized by the Flesh


'What the hell...?'

Daniel would slowly set down a shot glass as his eyes rested on the death-white eyes the woman had. Daniel, immediately seeing this, would become startled at the sight of the woman. However, his fear had not been fully acquainted with his cranium as of yet. The fear he was feeling was innate. Primal in the sense that danger was prowling at the forefront--HIS forefront.

Quietly, Daniel stood as he watched the decrepit woman inch closer and closer towards his bar. He wondered, by glancing towards the other men in the bar, if anyone else was witnessing this horrid event take place center stage. Daniel, taking a moment to arm himself with the shot glass he just cleaned, slowly came to the woman gesturing towards the exit. "Now young lady," Daniel said coming within five feet of the woman, "I can't have a drunken woman, such as you, stumbling around in my bar. I have kindly ask you to leave... Or I'll have to use to force..." He didn't like using force on women, as it wasn't his place to do so. But if the situation called for it, he would surely kick them out.

[Soulio]

"Oh my god!" Anthony screamed in horror. The woman did her damndest to bite into the man, finally getting somewhere by giving him the most gruesome of french kisses. Anthony wanted to run away, hurl, stay in his room and never come back out, but at the time, all he could do was sit still.

And then the barista offered a ride. In his current state, it took him a few moments to understand what she was saying.

"Y-yeah. P-please, thank you..." he said, pushing himself to his feet, sending a coursing pain through the palm of his hand. He'd definitely need to get that fixed ASAP. The bodies everywhere were starting to stir, some who were obviously dead, their bodies twisted and broken in every which way. It was like a horror movie.

"W-" He had always had a stutter when he was in great distress, and it had always irritated him. Clearing his throat and trying to collect himself, he continued, "We need to go." He looked at Juno insistently, honestly just wanting to get home. Today was weird, and he really hoped he was in a bad dream that he'd wake up from soon. The logical part of his brain knew very well that that was not the case.

[Naraness]

http://i1321.photobucket.com/albums/u550/Naraness/JennyWhite_zpste9dmarh.png

"We need to go."

That was all Jennifer needed. One hand curled around Anthony's wrist and the other gripped her purse. She turned around, her mind still swimming. Images of blood and death were imprinted on her mind, flashing before her eyes even when she shut them. She pressed blindly through the familiar kitchen behind the café. The back door was swinging closed when she got there. Jen caught it halfway, pushing it back open. Somewhere down the alley, a girl ran from the scene.

"Get in." Jen released the wrist she held onto, fumbling with her keys. If she wasn't shaking so badly, the task would've been easier, but they jingled loudly, betraying her. So much for staying quiet. Luckily, her thumbnail found the familiar unlock button. Her car chirped and the doors unlocked. Jennifer slid into the front seat and a wash of security fell over her as she snapped the door shut.

Her hands continued to shake, but she started the car without difficulty. Her little sedan hummed with life, bubblegum pop music blaring through the speakers. Jen smacked the radio off and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. She breathed slowly in temporary quiet. "God, get ahold of yourself." Her eyes were still moist with tears. Hurriedly, she wiped her eyes on her sleeves, leaving liquid mascara on her wrists.

Somewhere to her left the passenger door opened. Jen didn't look, just strapped her buckle on and tried to focus on her escape route. "Ready?" She put the car in drive.

[G]

http://i1321.photobucket.com/albums/u550/Naraness/G3_zps9cjslaoi.png
Paradise High School
Izzy - Hiro

Izzy was jerked from her transfixed state as she was torn from her chair by a surprisingly strong grip, unable to do much to protest (nor feeling much desire to) as she was ushered outside. She stayed silent throughout Hiro's frantic requests to the newly arrived teacher, who seemed skeptical of his story - she had not yet seen the horror within the classroom.

As Hiro turned to speak to her, his eyes shining with fear, Izzy gulped. The man who'd called for order was still standing over them, looking stern; for a moment she worried about the trouble they were about to get into, before her young mind grasped how foolish a thought that was, considering the trouble they were already in.

Before he could berate them, his attention was called horribly back to the classroom as a girlish scream tortured their ears, then cut off, as suddenly as it had started.

"What in the world..." the male teacher started to step toward the open door, and Izzy let out a little squeak of distress; her racing mind was catching up to her eyes, and she realised who the scream must belong to.

"Don't go in there!" she tried to warn him, but her voice was barely a whisper as it escaped her trembling lips. "It's too late..."

She was right - a small figure had appeared at the door, her long blond hair dyed with streaks of bright red. A gaping wound had been torn at her throat, the blood coagulated faster than should have been possible.

"Ciara. My god, what's happened?" Before the teacher could finish expressing his concern, she had stepped toward him, latching her teeth onto the closest body part she could reach - his outstretched arm. Reacting, the taller, stronger adult flung her off with a horrified yell, and the young girl's body flew backward to come into sharp contact with the doorframe.

"Ciara? What have I done?" He sounded both horrified and confused as he approached the fallen child, his free hand closed over his arm in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. "She just bit me, I couldn't stop myself! Ciara?"

"Don't..." Izzy tried again, taking a few steps backward. "Stop..."

But her words were falling on deaf ears, and she looked back at Hiro instead, her pupils dilated in her terror. "You're right. We have to go!"

With a shudder, she turned her back on the teacher, and her former bully, and toward the nearest exit route - a fire escape door marked 'Alarmed - do not exit.'

"Through here!" As she pushed it open, the promise on the sign rang true - throughout the school, bells began to toll, mixing sharp tones with the sounds of general panic. Beyond the door, there was a short stretch of grass that ran alongside the building, bordered by the black fence that ringed the school. It was designed to keep out 'intruders' - would their supposed protection now be their doom?

"Th... there's a side gate, right? Which way?" the girls' heart was pounding, panicking. She didn't want to die! And certainly not to be eaten!

The Shore
Kathryn

Behind her, chaos was erupting on the sand as the boy turned on the woman who'd clearly known him, from her reaction to his drowning. The dead lifeguard lay amid a patch of crimson-stained, damp sand, motionless... for now. People began to follow Kathryn's suit, phones and belongings abandoned as they took in the true horror of the situation, rather than seeing it as a mere spectacle.

On the street around the yoga instructor, people slowed in their morning commutes, looking over to the scene. Some looked horrified; others merely curious, as their brains caught up and realised the gravity of the situation. People were fleeing in terror, and as the passers by realised, they stopped, began to step backward, away from the scene. Some fumbled for phones, calling triple zero; but all were connected immediately to a busy tone. Apparently, no help was on the way.

The City Street
Jen / Anthony

...if those people on the shore only realised what it was they were running toward. Chaos had erupted, too, on the main street, and much more quickly than the isolated incident on the sand. The dead were stirring where they lay; and for every one that rose, a living person fell soon after. The streets were writhing with panic, the living trampling each other in their efforts to escape.

A girl burst from the back door of the cafe, blood splattered across her front and more quickly joining it from a long rip in her shoulder, torn into by teeth or fingernails; hard to tell. She spotted Jen's car, and began to limp weakly toward it, calling for the other girl to wait, to help! Behind her, a figure emerged from the doorway in pursuit. It was the police officer, his nose reduced to a gaping, bleeding hole in his face, part of his cheek torn away to reveal angry, red muscle and glimpses of white bone beneath.

"Please!" the girl called, panic rising in her voice as she glanced over her shoulder at the man. "Help me!"

-

Meanwhile, on the Boulevard, River was stepping back from the inconsolable woman, shaking her head. Christopher was no help; and the woman was too distressed to get a clear word out. Until...

"I killed her!" she sobbed, "my little girl... she's gone!"

"Woah!" River stepped back again, her eyebrows creasing, "you killed your own fucking daughter? What the fuck, this woman... she's crazy!"

"You... you don't, "the blood-soaked woman forced out between racking sobs, "understa-and! She attacked me! Bit me!"

River shook her head, glaring at Christopher as though this was somehow his fault. "Call the cops, will you? I'm outta here."

With that, she took off down the road, in the direction of Paradise Highschool, abandoning the thought of making it to her first lecture. She was basically in trauma, for gods sake. Pulling on her headphones, music blaring in her ears, she walked on, oblivious to her surroundings as she muttered under her breath about pyscho mums, killing their kids for biting them.

-

Daniel's Bar

As Daniel watched the girl with cautious eyes, the man at the bar swung around to follow his gaze, a leering grin appearing on his face as he caught sight of the girl.

"Well hey there, sweetie. Had a little much to drink last night, did we?" He wiggled his eyebrows lecherously at Daniel, smirking as he stepped toward the girl.

"Maybe I should help you get... ARGH!" His remark was cut short as the girl reached for him, even as he stretched an arm out to put around her waist. Her glazed, expressionless face twisted into an animalistic baring of teeth, and she grabbed his side, fingernails digging deep into the soft, flabby skin there. Her other arm grabbed the front of his shirt, and she buried her face in his chest, biting down on the shirt, and the skin beneath.

"Crazy bitch!" the man yelled, struggling to push her head away from him, and crying out as a chunk of his skin came away with her mouth; clamped shut around the flesh. She staggered backward as he shoved her, and the man looked at Daniel defensively.

"She attacked me, you saw it! I aint' no woman basher, but a mans' got a right to defend himself, you kno... ARGH!"

While his attention was elsewhere, she had come back to sink her teeth into his shoulder.

"Don't just stand there, fucken help me!" he shouted at Daniel, struggling with the girls' suprisingly strong grip.

[Naraness]

http://i1321.photobucket.com/albums/u550/Naraness/HiroyukiElm_zpsuode3bjw.png

Hiro's eyes searched the school grounds. Panic flooded his veins. He looked at Issy for a moment, hoping she'd have an answer. The black fence surrounding the school now seemed like a prison gate. Why did they ever put that there? Hiroyuki ran his hands through his hair. They had to act fast, or the zombies (he might as well admit it, they were zombies.) would get them. "W-wait, there's a spot over behind the bushes." He lifted his hand, pointing to a cluster of hedges. "There's, there's a hole under the gate where first graders crawl under to get to the stream. You can probably fit." He knew this because at one point, he had been a first grader doing that very thing. "I'll climb over while you go under. Okay?"

He was already hurrying over to the spot, pushing through the green brush to see. Sure enough, there was a child-sized dip in the ground just beneath the bottom bar of the metal fence. The hole was a lot smaller than he remembered, but Issy would be able to fit. She seemed pretty petite for her age. "Come on, hurry." Hiro called, looking back to make sure his classmate was still there. "Once we get through, we'll.. We'll go somewhere safe. I don't know where yet." His mind was racing with possibilities, but the idea of death loomed over his head like a dark cloud. Chills ran down his arms at the thought of teeth digging into his flesh.

Fear spurred him on, and Hiro started climbing as fast as he could.

[Soulio]

Nara and Soul Co-Post

Just as Jen had started her car, a woman stumbled out from the devastated cafe. Bloodied and limping, she was screaming, begging for help. A large amount of skin was missing from her arm, almost like it was ripped off by an animal. It made Anthony want to vomit, but the adrenaline proved more powerful, forcing it down and demanding Anthony to get the hell out of there.
“D-drive! Sh-she’s too hurt, and if we t-take her with us, she will d-die. L-let the paramedics he-help her.” He stammered out, a mixture of embarrassment, anger, and fear making the selfish decision for them.

Jen’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, her knuckles going white. “Okay,” She choked. It was logical, she couldn’t deny it. The waitress put the car in drive and gulped, her eyes locking onto those of the injured woman. “I’m sorry.” Her voice broke as she floored the gas, her car speeding away from the woman and down the alleyway.

They emerged on the other end of the alley. Here, there was no glass on the floor, no people lying dead on the street. Just a block away, it was impossible to tell that there were people dying a hundred yards away. At least, that would be the case if they couldn’t hear the sirens, the screaming, and cars crashing. Jen tried to block it all out, speeding faster down the road and gritting her teeth. “Where do I go? I can’t get on the freeway, it’ll be too busy.” Jen thought out loud, taking the Main Street. Just a mile away, no one was acting panicked… No one even seemed to know what was happening.

“God, how come no one else is freaking out?”

The look on the woman’s face nearly had Anthony suggesting they go back for her, but by that point, it was too late to turn back. He could only hope the paramedics could help her. As they sped down the road, it got progressively more and more calm, almost as though no one even heard the incident, let alone got some sort of news information.
“Age of Distraction at its finest…” Anthony mumbled.

Shaking her head, Jen continued down the road. “They’ve got to get it contained soon.” She reasoned. “I’m sure this will be over before the day is done.” Her words contained hope but her tone did not. What if this didn’t calm down? What if the whole city became blood crazed? Running a hand through her messy blonde hair, Jennifer looked out the window in an attempt to relax.

Squinting, she pointed towards a large, fenced-in building they were passing. “Isn’t that the highschool?” She asked. “Do you hear a fire alarm?”

Anthony listened carefully, trying to catch the drone of a fire alarm in the middle of downtown bustle and hustle. It was barely audible, but it was there.
“Yeah, I can hear it. Do you think something happened there too?” Anthony wasn’t sure if Jen was going to head for the school or keep driving, but he kind of hoped for the latter.
“Do you have like, a sibling or something there? Do you want to pick them up?” Anthony figured this was the best way to ask without sounding like a complete asshole, so he didn’t feel terrible asking the question.

Jen took a deep breath. She knew that trying to be a hero now wouldn’t change the fact that they abandoned that poor woman. What if she was being eaten alive at that very moment? “No. I don’t have a sibling. It’s just… kids.” She swallowed. “I hope they’re not going through this too.”

“Let’s hope not. That’d mean whatever was happening back there is more widespread than I thought,” Anthony mumbled, trying to wrap his head around what he saw. As he was thinking, he heard a scream, turning his head just in time toward the school to see what appeared to be a teacher falling from a window on the fifth floor. What followed next was two smaller figures-students most likely- following suite, only, instead of them going limp, they simply started crawling towards the teacher, as if the fall did nothing to them at all.
“Oh my god!” he screamed, mortified at the sight. Moments later, he could see students start spilling out of the various doors of the school, some bleeding, some shambling, but most screaming and running aimlessly. Especially those unfortunate enough to choose side doors, considering that they were boxed in by the large fences.

The back of Jen’s head grew cold. She couldn’t watch this… Couldn’t bear to see children being torn apart. “We have to do something. Anything.” She slowed the car down, feeling her chest tighten as she watched one student tackled another. Blood poured over the grass and spilled down the lawn; a vibrant stream of red.

As they approached the side of the school, a pair of students stood out from the rest. They held hands and ran for a portion of the fence that was shaded by a few shrubs. They were running for a part of the fence that appeared no different than the next… But soon she spotted a hold that was dug under the fence. It looked no bigger than a small child, but surely that was where the high schoolers were fleeing to.

Jen slammed on the brakes and put the car in park. She stepped out and waved to the two, shouting. “Hey! Hurry!”

“What are you doing?!” Anthony shouted, surprised and terrified at the sudden stop. He was even further perplexed when Jen stepped out of the car, calling two students over.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, rushing out of the car as well. Better to help than sit in the car a coward.
“Come on! Hurry, before we get stuck here!” He shouted after Jen, looking around, noticing that dozens of cars all around them came to a screeching halt, with many stepping out of their car, and others even rushing towards the school. He was certain some of them were parents coming to pick up their kids, intent on keeping them home until… whatever this was passed over, and life went back to normal.

Jen bit her lip and looked around. Hopefully they’d get out of here before the roads got congested and there was no way to drive out. “Come on!” She urged the kids, clutching the rim of her car door.

[G]

http://i1321.photobucket.com/albums/u550/Naraness/G3_zps9cjslaoi.png

Izzy could only nod, frantically, feeling a rush of gratitude toward the boy who'd stayed to help her out of this mess. Behind them, footsteps scraped across the cement slab that marked the single stair from the emergency door to the outside, and she ran for the hole in the fence, too terrified to even look behind her. Just get out, Izzy, don't look, just get out!

Then she was wigging through, the bottom of the bars scraping painfully against her back as she manouvered through the gap more quickly than was wise. She was going to make it! She was out! She was...

"Ahh!"

As she felt cold fingers - deathly cold - wrap around her ankle, Izzy didn't think - she just reacted, kicking out wildly at whoever; or whatever; was trying to prevent her escape. She felt the heel of her shoe hit something soft, felt a horrible crunch beneath it - but there was no grunt or cry of pain, only an angry hiss. The fingers did not release their grip, and Izzy kicked again, and again, struggling to free herself. Then the hissing abruptly stopped, and the hand that held her fast loosened ever so slightly, a dull thump sounding behind her as something fell to the grass. She tugged again with her ankle, and her foot slipped from it's grasp, taking her shoe with it. Scrambling upright, she spun to behold a terrible sight; on the other side of the tall fence, Ciara lay on her side, knees bent where she had knelt to take hold of Izzy's ankle. The gaping wound on her forehead could not have been merely from Izzy's blows; that must have come, the girl thought with a strange numb detachment - from her scuffle with the teacher, in the hallway. No, the damage Isobel had inflicted was clear - the other girls' nose was utterly devastated, little more than a hole in her face where Izzy's heel had struck it with adrenaline fueled force, over and over. Splinters of stark, white bone protruded from the hollows of her nostrils, the fractures of the what had been one of the childs' prominent features forced upward, and into her brain.

As the reality of what she had done began to sink in, Izzy felt herself begin to shake, uncontrollable tremors which started in her shoulders and radiated down her back, into her legs, until she lost her balance and sat down hard upon the grass, oblivious to the wildly gesturing Jen, nearby.

"What... what did I..."

Then the girl burst into tears.

[Roughdragon]

God dammit, what the Hell is going on?

Julie's head snapped up when she heard a knock on her door. No, not a knock, more like someone slammed into the door. She looked around her apartment for anything to use as a weapon, and ended up taking a butter knife from the kitchen. She bent down to look through the dog door, and saw a pair of bloody legs. She screamed and fell back as the person slammed into the door again. Her hand which held the knife shook violently. In fact, all of her was shaking violently. She wanted to throw up.

Is this really happening?

Julie ended up asking the same question multiple times. She wanted to jump out the window, but she saw how far down the ground was, and immediately decided against it. Even if she did survive, she’d break something, and those… things would tear her apart, just like that woman did to the officer. She couldn’t bear the thought. She cautiously walked to the door, and prepared to run. She only gripped the knife even tighter.

[Naraness]

http://i1321.photobucket.com/albums/u550/Naraness/HiroyukiElm_zpsuode3bjw.pnghttp://i1321.photobucket.com/albums/u550/Naraness/JennyWhite_zpste9dmarh.png

Hiro was at the very top of the fence when he saw a form rush forward and grasp Izzy by the ankles. Fear gripped his chest. "NO! IZZY!" He screamed, trying to climb back down as fast as he could. It was Ciara. She was crazy, her mouth agape with blood dripping from her curls. The hunger in her eyes spoke of a desire for flesh... Izzy's.

"Fight her, Izzy!" Hiro shouted, struggling. Just as he started to descend, his shoelace caught on the top of the fence. He pulled at it once, twice, to no avail. He was helpless to climb down and help the girl.

Another voice shouting caught his attention. There, stopped at the sidewalk was a car and a woman waving at them frantically. "Please!" He cried. "Help her!" Meanwhile, Hiro gripped the fence with both hands, pulling as hard as he could. In his struggle, his shoe flew off and he fell straight down, landing on his shoulder.

There wasn't time to check for bruises, he crawled to Izzy's side as fast as he could. By this time, Ciara was laying motionless on the grass. Blood was splattered all over her sneakers. "Oh no. Is she dead?" Just then, the girl burst into tears, in horror at what she'd done. Hiro's stomach dropped like a heavy weight. He felt sick. "It's okay, Izzy. Hey, it's okay." The boy wrapped his arms around her. What else could he do? "Hey, I know it's hard. But you did the right thing. I need you to be brave. We have to keep runnin-"

"Hurry!" Jen screamed, running around the car to the two of them. "We don't have time, you two. Please, please, please." She held the girl's face in her hands, forcing her to look in her eyes. "Please get in the car. Please." She grasped Isobel's hands, looking up at Hiro. "Get the door." Hiro nodded vigorously, obediently doing as she said. The barista half-led, half-carried the girl, putting her inside. Across the street, screams echoed from the nearby houses. Jennifer's eyes locked onto the form of a man shambling across the street with a knife in his chest. She cursed loudly, slamming the door shut.

Jen was taking charge. "Boy," She looked at Hiro, her eyes hard. "Get in the car and buckle up. Buckle your friend in too. Anthony! Sit down and shut the door!" There was no more time for charity... They were getting out of the city. Jennifer rounded the car and got in. The moment her passengers were in the car, she pressed the gas pedal to the floorboard.