Fucked

Fucked is a working title for zombie story.

56Two477-7503-S

Characters

 * Aaron
 * Brian
 * Leah Prior
 * Bailee Prior
 * Frank (original)
 * Sarah (original)
 * Gabriel (original)
 * Victor (debating)

Narrative (v.I)
When it first started, the Event, most people didn't know what to do, so they did what generic scared humans stereotypically do: they bitched and scurried around like roaches trying escape pesticide. It was funny, at first. Until too many began to get infected, or when the military started shooting people, whether they were infected or not couldn't be determine due to all carcass burnings; in retrospect I don't blame them, nor do I particularly care about any of it, but they did the right thing, you never know who's infected with the virus 'till it's too late as most tend to hide their wound. Why they do this? Hide and potentially endanger those around them? Because one in every seven humans are most naturally cowards. And what are cowards afraid of most? Death.

My name is Aaron. I was a coward, once. Death was what I was afraid of most, 'cause deep down in my very core I knew one day. . . eventually. . . we were all Fucked.

Story Arc I: Aaron (v.I)
"Run!"

That's what I said so often it became routine. Once a week we ran errands, this week was no different except for the colossal asshole standing in our way. A Big Bertha sized undead piece of shit, he looked like he recently ate a full course, his belly was bloated and his mouth still had chunks of flesh in it. Putrid and disgusting. The kids in the group started calling zombies like him 'Big Daddy'.

Narrative (v.II)
My life is full of death. Death was all around me no matter where I went or what I did. It was what I was afraid of most, 'cause deep down in my very core I knew no matter who I was with, one day. . . eventually. . . we were all Fucked.

Story Arc I: Marcus (v.II)
Cloaked by the shifting clouds he could still tell the sun was setting on the horizon beyond the trees. Marcus

Burdened with hauling cumbersome animal carcasses for his camp's meal tonight Marcus often bitched about having to do it alone as their were other guys in the camp and all were physically capable of helping and were older than him, but none even offered.

Marcus chuckled before looking up, he always did laugh at his friend's jokes then it happened. His eyes peered above where he was looking, catching a glimpse of the carnage. He didn't hear it coming at him, but he heard the screaming, the panic, the chaos as his friends and family were torn apart.

"Brian!" He wailed. But their were pained shrieks and scarce breath as he was being devoured. Aaron managed to drag himself up and ran for his life.

* * *

Marcus awoke with a start, he immediately grabbed the nine-millimeter glock under his pack and checked his surroundings, then settle when he remembered where he was: the Milikan High School gym.

later
He possessed a MP5 with a suppressor.

Lewd
''Really? Is she serious?!'' Aaron couldn't make anything of it, first she pulled a gun on him then she asks him to stay the night. Does she means she wants a night cap or sleep together? Only one way to find out.

With a deep breath he grabbed the door handle and opened the door.

There she was; Tris was sprawled across the king-sized bed completely nude save for a single boot and a cowgirl hat; she was reading a magazine and sipping a flat bottle of Coke through a straw with her legs propped in the air behind her. Her room was cluttered with scavenged material, but her gorgeous form entranced him and he paid no mind.

Her supple ass glowed in the sunlight, her curves knew no bounds and her lips perked on the straw as she smiled at him. "Howdy."

"Howdy." he closed the door behind him as she sat up and came his way. "Tris I just wanted to&mdash;"

She shut him up with a kiss. "Anybody ever tell you you talk too much?"

"Actually, no."

"Aaron, it was rhetorical."

"Oh." she kissed him again

Arc I: Charlotte
(Started in Notebook: July 30, 2015 ~ Started Online: August 24, 2015|U: 28Oct17|08June18|23Sep20})

In case something happens, I want you to meet me somewhere.

Where?

Last place we saw each other.

September 2016

Charlotte laughed at the television, a How I Met Your Mother marathon was streaming on Netflix. She enjoyed the show ever since she was a teenager, she would watch it in the room she shared with her twin sister; they would watch all day and night, joking and mimicking the protagonists' attitudes and tendencies.

Those were good times, and not all that long ago. But now she was nineteen, alone in an apartment that she shared with a roommate who was out of the country at the moment and was not on the best of terms with, and cuddled up with a stuffed panda bear named Nappa in front of the television. A part of her wished her roommate was there with her so she could feel safe, but duty came first at this time, however she'd feel a lot better just to know if it was safe for either of them -- with all the rumors of people trying to eat each other circulating social media.

"Cannibals," she said, after a moment she realized how ridiculous it sounded then said it again with a high pitch laugh, "Cannibals like Hannibal!"

When the laughter died down, she dismissed it as the same bullshit that has always circulated social media. Like memes. She continued to watch the show for seven more episodes before hunger began to set in, she glanced at the clock: 8:12 p.m., it read.

She grimaced when she realized she forgot to go grocery shopping. Charlotte thought long and hard, also weighing the pros and cons of going shopping; she didn't feel like going out but then again she was hungry, she had no fast food menus -- Domino's went under and the Pizza Hut in her area wasn't up and operational yet, Papa John's wasn't even a choice, not because it wasn't an option but simple because she hated it, so the apps were out of the question.

With a long and heavy sigh she got off the couch, got dressed and headed out. Once outside, she pulled her door closed and locked it, simultaneously her neighbor Elliot was doing the opposite but had a scantily-clad woman with him, he was just getting home.

It seemed he was a shut-in because in the months of her living there they barely spoke a single word to each other, though she'd almost always here noises coming from his place and it seemed tonight would be no different.

"Hey." He said.

"Hey." Charlotte replied.

Almost at the same time Charlotte headed down the stairs and he opened his door, but oddly she felt as if he was still looking at her like a creep, she didn't bother to try and confirm though. When she got downstairs she got into her gray 'bucket' of a car, an old ‘97 Chevy.

There were quite a few places near her to get something to eat, but she thought it better to actually get groceries rather than having to come back out the next night skulking around for a meal to hold her over until morning.

Pulling out of the apartment parking lot, she turned and headed to the grocery store a couple blocks away.

The drive was short and the shopping was shorter, grabbing mostly meat products, eggs, ramen noodles, baker goods, snacks and such, et cetera. When she realized she overflowed her basket she knew it was time to go to check-out; the line was practically nonexistent and she was thankful and the woman at the register quickly went through her charges, scanning and tallying up the total cost as fast she could as if she were in a rush. But now that she thought about it, there were not a lot of people in the store.

Nor were there more than a half a dozen cars in the parking lot.

When Charlotte got to register the cashier gave her a tired expression, she looked pale and sickly.

Just like the others, she hurried through Charlottes items, missing two of them and tallied it up. She gave her an estimated total in a weary voice and not wanting her to pass out Charlotte didn't give it a second thought and paid quickly, threw her bags in the basket and left.