User:Robthearch1/BDstories

A place for Bigdaddy2 to put the stories that he writes, and nobody cares about.

Story time!

All events you read about in these stories actually happened. I actually did start playing UD at the same time as my friend in real life named John, we started in the same suburb (He actually started in Fryerbank, but he came to Miltown before so much as looking at a zombie) but I wont post his profile link as he has stopped playing. I actually did punch a zombie to death and I also got killed by a guy with flare guns. 5 hits from a flare gun due to my Flak jacket...

Before the outbreak

It's been years, really, but I remember it really well. One day i'm in a squad fighting fires all around Miltown, the next day our squad leader has a heart attack and I am promoted to his position. Leading a team of firefighters, every ten year old boy's dream, right? Well, it went good for a while, at least until the dead began to rise... But enough of that! You have heard way too many stories about them, and more than likely have a few of you own. You'll hear more about them later. Let us instead go back in time a little bit.

I was born in Whittenside, about twenty years before those blasted scientist screwed us all. Growing up wasn't pretty. The suburb was full of two things, military personnel and gang members. When there wasn't a riot, there was a crackdown on drugs. That blasted fort got a lot of army attention, all these low ranking soldiers at the gates and patrolling the streets while the officers were sitting around a big table. It seemed that wherever you looked you saw a uniform. I grew up in between the sides of the Whittenside conflict, mostly because I didn't like being in big groups of people. I guess that's why it took me so long to get along with the DEM...

I made it out of there, though! On my fifteenth birthday, I got in to a situation that practically forced my family to move, purely unintentional though. A gang leader decided to recruit me one day and got violent when I said no. Long story short, he ended up in the hospital for 3 days recovering from a concussion and my house was burned down. One of the reasons I decided to become a firefighter, actually.

Anyway, it was a bad trade for me. I went from Whittenside to Miltown. Gangs to rich kids. I had no way of knowing that they decided whether they liked you or not within the first ten seconds of meeting you. No way of knowing that if your suit was washed in regular detergent, they could smell it, then you were an outcast.

You might say that I made it out of the frying pan only to land in the fire, but Whittenside wasn't pretty either. I believe a more accurate term would be that I climbed out of the fire and fell in to the oven. I was stuck in Miltown with no way to get out, and nobody there that I knew.

I was the only one that used the weight room at school, and probably the only reason it wasn't locked like everything else. It seems that the rich folk had found a way to get their butlers to exercise for them or something, because I never saw any of them lifting something heavier than their own backpacks, or moving any more than it took to get from their limos to school, but none of them were out of shape. That was my mentality until John came.

John was like me. He had grown up outside of the protective bubble of Miltown, and was forced inside due to troubles with people. We were the only people there that didn't have huge fancy houses with parents that stayed home all day counting money, and we stuck together. He even joined the squad at the same time as me, and was the only challenge I had when it came to wrestling off duty.

We had accomplished our goals. Everything was fine. Then I became chief, appointed John as the second in command, and everyone started dying. By far the only thing I regret about my job was installing that blasted robotic voice to tell us where the fires were.

The day of the outbreak

"Reports of a fire at Club Otero, dispatch immediately!"

I looked around me and saw my crew getting their gear on. Blasted clubbers, when were they going to learn not to smoke to close too that bar?

"Reports of a fire at The Perriam Museum, dispatch immediately!"

Well, that was strange. In fact, everyone stopped to stare at the loudspeaker. there was only one crew in here, and we had to respond to two fires?

"Reports of a fire at the Heward Arms, dispatch immediately!"

That was it! I had enough of that voice! Dang robotic thing didn't even seem to notice that cities don't spontaneously combust every day, it just kept informing us of building after building.

"Come on guys, those fires aren't going to put themselves out!" I yelled to my crew as they resumed gearing up. "John, you stay here and inform us of any more of these blasted things."

And that was that. Everyone else ran down to the fire trucks, only two were left in the garage. On the way down, John's voice cracked over the radio "Josephine General just lit. You may want to send one of the trucks there first, it will be the biggest help, possibly save the most lives. Take the second crew to the Heward Arms. It's the hottest hang out for people around the area, there's bound to be someone trapped in there,."

"Roger that, John." I replied.

I climbed in to the drivers side of one of the trucks and we opened the garage doors. We drove out in to the crazed city. There was fire everywhere in the distance, along with gunshots and this strange noise that sounded almost like moaning.

"Holy... They've called us out in to a riot!" I one of my men shouted.

"Hey, what are those soldiers doing? It looks like they're building some sort of wall!" Another member shouted.

"What!? They just shot that man! What was he running from?"

"Keep it together!" I shouted, "They're probably just building those waist high walls that they can shoot over and hide behind. What do they call those again? It's obviously a riot, I bet that man had some sort of weapon we couldn't see from here."

We separated in front of Callistus General Hospital. I kept heading towards the Heward Arms while the other crew headed to Josephine's. People were in a panic all around us. My memory gets a little shaky around this part. I remember wondering what was going on. I pulled up close to the Heward Arms. I remember that the blaze was too big for anyone to be alive inside, but we stopped to spray helplessly at it anyway.

"Rob, there's something going on at the station. I'm going to close the garage doors, but i'll reopen them when you guys get back." John's voice was weak and frightened over the radio. "Be safe out there." He said before the line went silent again.

I remember seeing a crowd of people slowly walking towards our stalled truck. I remember the gunshots from another group of people. I saw the side get blown off one of the people walking towards me, but they just kept walking. Out of terror, I started the vehicle and drove off towards the club.

A man walked in to the road before I got to the club. He turned towards our truck and just started moaning, then he started walking towards us. The crazy little bloke was walking straight towards our speeding truck! I tried to avoid hitting him, but ended up spinning the fire engine. I heard the noise as it hit him, and saw his lower half on the road during the spinning.

There was a crash. I knew there would be one the second we started spinning, but I didn't expect it to be that hard, or sudden. There was water everywhere, mixed with the blood. Some from my own cracked head, the rest from my crew any the top half of that man, whose head was smashed under the tipped over remnants of our water storage tank.

I was lying on my stomach, but I was able to look up and read the sign over the building we had crashed in to. Shuffery bank. I grasped for my radio transmitter, only to find that it was smashed to pieces, and only the back of it was attached to my belt. My vision started to blur, but not before I saw a man in a blue uniform approaching the wreckage. He stopped, fired a few shots over me, then grabbed me by the arms and started pulling toward the door.

Awakening

The ground was hard on my back. The sound of the warning sirens going off still pounded in my head. Had I made it out? It didn't feel like it. It was too hot, and smelled too much like an overcrowded bus to be anywhere else but Malton. I opened my eyes and found a police man standing right above me. "Where am I?" I asked him.

"Shuffery Bank" he replied.

"How did I get here?"

"You crashed your team outside, and we brought you inside. You're the only survivor of the wreck... At least the only one that isn't shambling."

"Shambling? What exactly happened?"

"There will be a time for questions, and a time for answers. Now is the time for silence. They are nearby."

I looked around the room and saw about twenty other people, all carrying some sort of a weapon. I grabbed my fire axe and wrapped my outfit around me. I had always thought it to be too warm, but now I was glad for my heavy coat. The air was cold, and when I moved to a window I smelled something like rotting flesh. I started opening the window to see where the smell came from when I heard a pounding on the door. The people in the room sprang forward and started adding things to a barricade in front of the doors. Funny, you'd think I would have noticed a barricade before.

"You, get out of here!" The police man said, pointing at me. "You just woke up and will only get yourself killed in here!"

I ran for the back offices where they keep the money, and noticing a back door, started slipping outside. I had heard the sound of the doors blowing open, and had heard the gunshots, but it did not register what was going on. I turned around in time to see what looked to be people attacking the very people I had just been sitting with minutes before. The police man who had talked to me shot two of the cannibals (I had noticed that they were eating the people they attacked) but got piled on by three more of them. I didn't know what else to do, so I ran outside.

There was one of the creatures outside. He limped towards me and started moaning.

"Get away!" I warned. "I will kill you if you get closer!"

He just kept approaching, so I closed my eyes and swung my axe. I heard a crack and whoever it was slumped to the ground. I had killed something humanlike. I hadn't even fought anyone since high school, and there I was killing things. I didn't feel anything at all, it was as if I was supposed to kill it. I brandished my axe and started running for Donoghan Walk Fire Station.

I arrived at the fire station and was glad to finally see lights. While the sight of friendly ground gave me energy, I collapsed on the ground. I heard the hum of our backup generators as I crawled inside.

"Rob! He's alive!" A familiar voice yelled.

"John? Is that you John?" I was lying face first on the ground and was too tired to get up. "What are these things? They seem to attack people for no reason."

"The military people say that they're zombies," John sounded as optimistic as ever. "I wouldn't have believed them if I didn't personally see some of those people stand back up after they were shot."

"Well, whatever they are," I was rolling over to look at the people in the station, seeing everyone from the second fire engine that left the day I crashed, which I was starting to remember, "the next time I see one, i'm running it over with that fire truck." I pointed to the only truck still in the fire station.

John laughed at me and said "Good luck with that, the blasted thing's out of fuel!"

The fall of Miltown

They were everywhere. Zombies were pouring in through the streets, and a lot of those murdering people were going on a building search. Nothing made you feel more hopeless than killing a murderer and throwing hum on the street, only to see him stand up and join the horde pounding on your doors.

We had been under the siege for weeks. I had personally only been in the suburb for days. After arguing with the loose band of survivors that called themselves the First Heavy Decontamination Brigade, I had decided to leave their ranks and go help the people of Miltown. Yes, Miltown. The suburb right in the corner of Malton. The suburb that I had woken up in just months before. From some buildings, you could see the military blockades on two sides of the city.

The military... What a joke. They said that they had our best interests in mind, that they were helping as much as they could. Did they think we couldn't hear the sounds of the taverns behind the walls they had built? What part of shooting down civilians who were trying to escape certain death was helping us? And did they honestly think that those supply crates they sent every year helped?

Those crates helped a little, i'll admit, but only when the right people found them. Some people found the crates, grabbed the guns inside, and then hid behind the barricades in their little "safehouses" until they got to be good enough at hiding that they didn't even need to use the guns. Other times, they were found by zombies who had no use for them, but only smashed them beyond repair using what few tools we had.

My train of thought was interrupted by a splintering noise I knew by now as the last few sections of our barricades falling away. Zombies started pouring in through the hole that used to be a doorway, but now resembled the product of a five year old with scissors and some paper. Bullets were fired from every direction. Unlike most of these newcomers, I knew not to stay in an area that has had a break-in during a siege. I picked up my guns and fired a few rounds, backing towards the staircase. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't afraid, but I was too tired to be of much help anyway, having lifted an assortment of things in front of that door to build the barricade that just fell. I would have ended up as a zombie if I had stayed.

I tripped over something on my way out. Looking up, I saw the familiar face of the resident psychopath. A man who had sneaked in every night and killed someone new in our building. I knew his face by now because I started to wait up for him, and was even able to shoot his arm while he left last time. This time, however, I was at the disadvantage. He had a gun pointed towards me, while mine was still aimed towards the door. I smiled when I saw that his left arm was heavily bandaged, despite the fact that I had a gun to my head.

"Leaving so soon?" He asked, "The party just started!"

There was a crack, then a scream, and next thing I knew his body was on the ground right next to me. I pulled myself up and ran forward to the staircase. If I didn't get out of there, I would end up just like everyone else, nothing better than sweaty food. I fired some more shots toward the door, watching one of them fall over, and found myself at the bottom of the staircase. When I got to the top, I ran to the window and was about to jump to the building next door when I saw the shadows on their first floor. It looked just like what was happening in the building I was standing in.

Running to the other side of the second floor I saw it. A building that had already experienced the battle. A building that was empty of corpses, because the only corpses that had not been eaten had reanimated and walked out to join the siege. I took a deep breath and jumped through the window, landing on the roof of the low building below me.

I took a quick peak around the place to make sure there were no bodies, and then found an isolated location to sit while I could watch the door, but hopefully not be seen through it. I had decided not to put up a barricade, because those only seemed to attract unwanted attention from zombies. Slowly, I was able to drift asleep, but I wondered how many other people were going to sleep that night.

Hidden strength

It had been a year since I first woke up in miltown. I had gone back after an exploration of some other suburbs and saw nothing but the blasted zombies everywhere. When I returned to Niltown, I saw nothing but ruins. Upon entering the mostly in tact fire station, I found that john had left me a note telling me that he had left when Miltown had fallen. He also said that he heard about Caiger Mall and how it was broken in to a lot, but the survivors almost always won. He told me to leave a note to him, telling him where I was going, and that the zombies couldn't read. I scribbled down a word on the paper and stuck a knife through it, in to the table. "Danversbank."

Walking through the debris, being careful not to alert the zombies of my presence, I walked towards the suburb of Danversbank. I had heard that this suburb was in good condition, and wanted to be able to escape from the zombies for a while. One fateful day inside of Martha General Hospital, Dr Yep sent out a message to a group of people gathered inside. "Medics wanted for the DRRP!" is what I heard. My ears perked up at the sound. I had been in a group before, with a few survivors, but I never got really attached to them. This was during my beginning months as a zombie hunter, and I wasn't sure I wanted to get involved in another group. After giving it some thought for a whole 23 seconds I stood up and said "How do I sign up?"

That question has put me through some of the best and worst times of my life. At first, all seemed well, but then I heard of some punk named cool nYou who went around destroying the backup generators in buildings. It took me a few weeks to actually see him but when I did, it was only for a second. I saw him through a window. It was only a shadow but somehow I knew it was him. A fist raised, fell, and then darkness fell in Voss Lane Police Department. After the dark, there were several gunshots, followed by the mangled and twisted body of cool nYou falling through a window.

And then came the zombies. Hordes of them all writhing around The Kynaston Building. I moved up to help, after reports of several break-ins. Preparing my guns for the workout they were about to recieve, I packed my bags and headed up, not knowing what I was getting myself in to. The scene was pretty much the same as what I had seen before. Several people dead, a few people staring with huge eyes at the even bigger barricade, and several empty bottles of alchohol lying on the ground. I smiled at the sight. A year before I would have shook my head at such an image, but being with the DRRP gets you used to those things. Still smiling, I sat in a chair and fell asleep.

The next night I was woken up by a pounding on the barricades. Everyone around me seemed to be asleep, and I suddenly remembered the party we had just had. Everyone had been drinking, except for me. It seemed to me that I was the only DRRP member who didn't enjoy drinking until I passed out, and everyone else in the building seemed to have had the same idea. There was a sudden yelp as Verven was pulled out in to the street, then he jumped back up and started throwing things in front of the doors. I staarted using some first aid kits to heal his wounds when we saw five zombies in the building.

I looked at Verven, and he smiled nodding. Together we drew out our shotguns and charged in to the crowd of zombies. from the two of us, bullets went everywhere, and the rest of the pople somehow managed to stay asleep. Must've been a good thing for them to stay asleep, because with the massive hangover they would have, the last thing they'd want to hear is a bunch of guns going off. four of the zombies had been gunned down within mere minutes, bodies thrown out the windows. Verven and I turned to look at the last zombie. We both charged, but Verven tripped and fell on to a lab computer, hitting his head. No problem, I had done this before. I fired at the last zombie, dropping him to his knees. I was about to shoot the thing in the head when my pistol made an empty clicking noise that all my guns had made earlier. I didn't know what to do. If I ran now, that last zombie could kill survivors in the room until his body literraly crumbled.

Criticizing myself for what I was about to do, and for throwing out my fire axe a few months before, I ran at the zombie and jumped on him, bringing him to the ground with me. I raised my fist and hit the thing in the head with one hand, while using my other to keep its mouth away from me. I just kept hitting the thing. I couldn't stop myself, and I was scared of what I was doing. I heard a cracking noise and saw my hand go through his head. Utterly disgusted at what I was touching, yet feeling a sense of pride for saving at least a few people. I threw the body outside of the window, listening carefully for the noise of it landing on the other four corpses, and went to the bathroom to wash my hands thoroughly. I couldn't wait to tell everyone about this one, but knew it would have to wait, and i'd probably habve to whisper it due to their current state.

Invasion

Things had been going well in Danversbank up to this point. I had become somewhat known by the people. I was the DRRP member who continuously talked to them, asking them how I could personally help them enjoy their stay in Danversbank. I had only put a couple of their suggestions to use, but it was good. I talked a lot to Verven and Anthor and had developed a friendship with both of them.

Being stationed in the southwest of Danversbank wasn't that bad. In fact, it was great. The south-west wasn't attacked very much, which made it ideal to stay safe, but bad for people interested in shooting things. I got bored one day and decided that I would go up to the Kynaston building, where there was always some action going on.

I jumped in the Kynaston building in my usual, over dramatized way through a window, and landed on the ground in an empty room. "Dang." I muttered under my breath, "That was a cool one, and nobody was in here to see it."

I walked out in to he main room of the necrotech building to find a soaking wet R33F3RM4N sitting on a couch near the generator. I walked up next to him and asked him what happened.

"I killed a philosophe knight." He said, still staring at the generator.

"You gotta do what you gotta do to survive." I responded.

"You don't understand, do you? Killing a philosophe knight is like a death sentance to you and everyone assosciated with you. That's why I am leaving for a while." He was still staring at the generator.

"No you aren't, you are staying right here. We're a team and we stick together." I turned around to see Paddy walking up to us.

I left the two so they could have their own private conversation, and went over to bug some information about the knights out of the people. Nobody had any real good information except for Gina, who said that I was now on their target list just for being in the same group as R33F, but I had been killed before and didn't mind it. Yes, I had been killed before, and it was a strange feeling. Somehow, when you die in Malton you just stand back up and roam around as one of those zombies, but if you roam to the right place, somebody injects you and you wake up soon after.

Knowing that my friends were also on the kill list is what got me, and it was soon shown that we were on a kill list by the death of Paddy. I was in my warehousewhen someone told me what had happened. They also told me the name of someone who revived the Philosophe Knighs regularly, so I grabbed my guns and ran. I came to the same Kynaston building where so much had happened before and found a man hiding in one of the rooms. he fit my description and had the same name, so I put a shotgun to his head and heard no more of him.

And then came the invasion. The knights snuck in to our safehouses, killed someone from our group, and jumped out of the window to land on the street several yards below them, concrete breaking their fall. Then they stood up as zombies and moved to a designated Revive Point to await a needle in their necks. This continued onward with us only able to avenge our fallen members every so often.

A few weeks later at that ever-so run in to Kynaston building, we were all on our toes. The guard had been upped to 3 people watching the barricades, and the windows. I was staning with two other people when we heard the footsteps on the roof. "I seriously doubt that that's Santa Claus, people. Get ready!" I tried to tell them, but it was too late.

A few seconds after I said that there was a loud crack and one of the other people on guard duty fell down. I drew a pistol and started shooting in the direction that the shots came from, a room that had a large hole in the roof, not seeing anything when the other remaining guard fell to my right. I was alone against how ever many people were in the building. My pistol made a clicking noise, so I reached for another one, but it was too late. I looked up and saw, of all things, a flare headed directly towards my face. I tried dodging, but it hit me on the right side of my head, leaving my face scarred and slightly darker than normal on that side.

I fell to the ground and felt the zombie abilities taking over my body. I was still slightly conscious, but I knew I was dying again. Right before it all went black, I saw someone throwing me out of a window with the other two guards. I stood up in a zombie form and shambled off to a designated revive point, seeing the man who killed me jump out of a window himself. I hadn't exactly seen who had killed me, but I somehow knew it was him. I vowed right then and there that it would end between us the same way it started, with violence.

Reinforcements... Or not.

It was a crazy sight. The military had promised us reinforcements,but these people hardly looked how we had imagined. In fact, the only military personnel I saw were low ranking soldiers who had these scared looks on their faces, obviously hoping that they would recieve last second orders to abort the mission. I remember wondering how many of them had ever fired a gun at something that was moving.

I saw plenty of police officers and firefighters jumping from the helicopters too, along with a load of civilians that weren't even carrying weapons. And plopping them down all over the city? Didn't they have images of the city? Didn't they know the situation in Ridleybank?

That was a huge mistake by the army. I'm sure they were going for a strength in numbers approach, but they had sent a bunch of people with hardly any weapons training, if they had indeed had any at all. And none of the trained ones had anything better than a pistol. If they were military they got a couple extra clips, but that's as far as it went, and as I said before, there weren't many soldiers in the crowd.

If these people weren't lucky, they just landed on the street instead of on a building top. If they were even less lucky, they wouldn't find a building to get inside of before nightfall. If they were really unlucky, they would have an undead welcome party. The moans came from every direction that night.

I still remember sitting in my warehouse, listening to the moans when I heard one particularly close. I decided to break tradition and go outside. If it meant saving an uninformed citizen from what an incompetent government had sent them to fight, it would be worth it. I stepped outside and saw the poor bloke, he had tripped over some debris from the school that he was right next to, and was trying to crawl to the door when one of them came around. I immediately realized that he wasn't carrying a weapon, but was clutching a mobile phone like his life depended on it.

I placed myself in between him and the zombie, watching it walk towards me with it's mouth open. I remembered when I was in the position that this man was in now, and how a police officer had sacrificed himself to the hordes in an effort to allow me to escape. I made my mind right then that I wouldn't die doing this. I was going to take that zombie out, and I was going to see this man get to safety. I wouldn't let him survive only to find out that the whole city is in this situation, like the old officer did to me. He was going to hear it straight up, and I was going to tell him.

I looked up again to see the zombie even closer, still howling like it was scaring me. I placed a hand over the hilt of my axe, then reconsidered and pulled out a pistol with the other. After emptying a full clip in to the creature's head, I turned to the man still on the ground. He looked up at me, and I knew he expected me to say something. Before I knew it, I opened my mouth and said, "Sorry mate, I don't sign autographs."

That got his spirits back. He climbed on to his feet and followed me to the fire station close by. I moved him under the protection of our resident man in woman's clothing, Sara (less commonly referred to by his man name, Bob Jones), and went back to my safehouse. Sure, there were still people being eaten all over the city, but at least there was now one less. I kept those thoughts in my mind as I went to sleep on a pile of antique rugs I had recently found inside one of the many crates in the warehouse.

On air?

Things were going good in Danversbank. We were relatively free of zombies and overall, had too many people there. so we decided to lend a hand to our neighbors to the north. Actually our neighbors to the north's neighbors to the northeast, but we'll just say neighbors to the north. I went through the torn streets of Osmondville, only to see more carnage and a bunch of zombies surrounding one building. They were crawling all through the thing. Inside of it, back outside, looking out the windows, everywhere. Our little group of people went in to a nearby building to prepare for our assault on that zombie controlled lump of stone.

We got inside the buildings and each did our own thing. One of us went to a night club, one of us went to a nearby museum, and I personally went to a building right next to the one under zombie control. Now, I was a fireman before the apocalypse, I knew nothing of military strategy, but I thought that surrounding the target on 3 sides was a good idea. we even got a second person to go to the club! But I guess I was wrong, because the club was attacked. One minute we got them on 3 sides, the next we're on 2 sides. The only advantage was that now we were more concentrated in numbers.

I was in that place for four days. I hadn't seen such an abandoned suburb since I went back to Miltown to see how things were going. It was almost day three when the radio crackled to life. I heard a voie that I did not recognize, followed by some gunshots and then the voice said something again. I barely caught any of it, but it didn't take a genius to figure out someone had been killed. It wasn't until I received another broadcast that I realized it was another member of my group. I wanted to pack up and head home right then and there, but I had promised the people of Osmondville that I would help them retake that blasted Necrotech building.

Day three was in full swing when the next broadcast came through. I payed more attention this time, but still couldn't quite figure out what he was saying. My blasted radio hadn't been working straight for a while so I shook it and then it all came in to focus. That unfamiliar voice got clearer, but it wasn't any good because next thing I heard was a short yelp and an axe going through someone. I sort of figured it was the same guy killing another member of my group and switched my receiver off. Just one more day, I kept saying to myself, tomorrow we all rush in at once and shoot any undead meatbags we see. Then I can throw a couple benches in front of the door and pack up to go home. Hopefully find this punk that's killing our men on the radio.

Sadly, I never found the guy. I made it back home in one piece though. The assault worked perfectly, and I personally fueled the generator that helped churn out enough revive syringes to build up Osmodville's own defense in case they got attacked again. I ran through the streets to get back, and made it just in time for open mic night. Unfortunately, we realized we were being attacked through the radio, so there wasn't much participation in that event. Hey, i'm just glad I survived Osmondville, I don't need to remember that some random guy got away with the kills of three of our people. What? I didn't mention a third killing? Well, it was pretty muich the same as the last two, so you got the idea. We got all our people up and running again, but it just annoys me that he got away...