The resistance/History

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History of The resistance

In this page, the history of a group, the resistance, is to be uncovered...

Early History

I was running as fast as I could, sweeping away dead bodies and trash of the streets with my blood-flecked boots. I ran across the Stanbury just to hide from the zombies. I knocked on every door, and no one would let me in. I thought this was the end. Soon, I realized I carry a GPS with me. I opened it, and saw that there was a building with no zombie around it. I though it could be a place to hide. As soon I arrived that the front of the building , I immediatly jumped through the window, and saw a lot of people there. Drinking, and eating.


It was a murky night. In the Wheaton Avenue Police Department everything was quiet from the inside... But the outside was loud, and active. As soon a cupboard fell of the barricades, all the people who weren't sleeping, knew, that this was the end. Most of the people were slaughtered, and their bodies carried in the dark streets. Blood covered the walls, and bodies were scattered on the floor. I woke up. When I looked around myself, the first thing I saw was a body, with his blood smeared Flak Jacket torn up. It didn't protect him from the zombies. I was the only alive one. I quickly ran to a nearby building, vanishing in the dark corners. It was raining, and the water cleaned my military vest of blood. Outside, through the window, I saw a band of survivors, marching through the street. They carried a flag. It was a group. This was the start of this Group


Later, it stopped raining, and the sun rised above the police Station. I walked in, and saw people rebuilding the station. I saw a decent man, with a fireaxe, chopping the woods he probably collected from a warehouse, to fortify the station. As I walked to him, I asked him "Do you want to become a member of a group?". The man just smiled, and gave me his axe. The group was born.

Most of us seen the worst things. Most of us aren't scared. Most of us are veterans. We've seen the biggest hordes, the safest buildings, the scariest pictures and corpses. Each time we kill a zombie, we thing that isn't enough. We've never been outnumbered - we were sorrounded, never outnumbered.

Later, as most of us gained skills and recruits, he dissapeared. I never saw him again. As the situation changed, the HQ was transfered to a safer place. We started planning, and killing zombies. Revivification, healing, barricading was our jobs, and we did that well. We proclaimed ourselves a para-military group. Depending on our resources, and the resources of others.

Today, out jobs are mostly to kill zombies, help the local populace, or in our free time, drink some alcohol, or drop some dice. We also sometimes work in corporation with other groups, in many opportunities.

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