Journal:Clint Clintstone

Main · Talk · Journal · Signature · Templates · Sandbox · Navbar Characters: Clint Clintstone + CV The Beginning: I can still remember his face. The first person I ever killed. I had been listening to a radio broadcast on some infection and how the military was taking actions to contain it. It was nearing midnight so I didn't pay much attention. That's when the dispatcher called my car number (1701) to a Code 8 situation. That means that another officer needs your help so you drop what you're doing and get your ass over there. I arrived at what looked like a riot. Most of the force was there along with ambulances, fire engines, S.W.A.T., and even the military. I could tell this was the real deal. Thats when things fell apart. Some people had gone around the backs of some houses and surrounded them. I hopped out and drew my gun. Thats when the noise hit me. Moaning, like a whole room was mourning over there a loved one. Then the screams. The ones that were surrounded were being killed! This mob was tearing them to pieces! But, why? The shots became less and less frequent as they were killed. The hose that was being used to hold them back was still running and the water was tinged with crimson red. One saw me. He came at me like a drunk but this drunk could walk a straight line and this line led to me. I yelled for him to freeze. He didn't. I yelled again. He kept coming. I shot once directly at his heart. He didn't stop. I fired again. Nothing. I emptied the clip into him. He didn't miss a god damn second. I pulled out my standard issue baton and hit him in the knee. Both the baton and his knee broke. I backed away. He was crawling toward me! I looked into his eyes and saw a milky gray film staring back. He had a wound on the side of his neck that would kill a man in minutes. Thats when all my years of horror films hit me. This guy was a zombie. I took the broken baton and drove the pointed end into his right eye. He stopped. That was the first person I ever killed. Well re-killed. Escape: I looked up and saw that the group had finished with my comrades and now was coming at me. I got back into the car and got the hell out of there. The radio was blaring. Everyone was trying to talk at once. I turned it off and drove into a deserted parking lot. I popped the trunk and threw the first aid kit, ammo, and hand radio into a pack I use to hold my lunch and whatever else I bring on duty. Then it hit me, the realization of it all. This was honest to god Z-day. I remembered all of my buddies on the force who were probably wandering around somewhere looking for a victim. I cried and cried until a noise snapped me out of it. A shuffling noise somewhere in the dark. I pointed my flash light around until I saw the torn faces of a horde of the undead. i slammed the trunk and back into the car. I slammed on the gas and drove away from the horde until I hit another one. I turned and turned until I realized that I was surrounded. I had to make a stand here and now. I saw a point were the group looked thinner and I plowed through it. I had one of the newer units but it still was a rough ride. I broke through onto a street that had become littered with random human parts and other debris. I needed a plan. This sucks: Driving along I was overwhelmed by the feeling that life as I knew it was over. Oddly this feeling didn't come from the body parts laying all over or the wrecked cars clogging some roads. It came from the little things. I saw trash cans set up to be collected. I saw newspapers that had been delivered to front porches, children's toys in front yards, and dog's dead while tethered to there chains. Poor thing never stood a chance. I pulled over to look at the dog. It had been bitten in the rear, probably while sleeping. I took off the chain and looked at it's tags. His name was Ralph. He didn't get up like we do. He just layed there. Animals were obviously spared the horror of reanimation. As I looked at that poor best I said out loud "This sucks" Time to start: I must have said it to loud because a zombie came shambling out from an open garage near by. I didn't bother with him. I got back in my cruiser and took off. I headed for the place where I figured the least amount of people would go in this situation. The movie theater. The place still had power and was completely deserted. I walked through once just to make sure the place was clear. I went into the theater and catch this, Night of the living Dead was playing! At least someone still had a sense of humor. I sat down and began to plan my next course of action. I decide to hang low in this place for a while. All of the emergency exits were closed so I focused on the front entrance I found the keys lying on the floor so I just locked them. Then I positioned all the cardboard cut outs in front of the glass to keep any light from giving away my spot. Then I moved all the arcade games in front of them. It'll be hard for them to get through that. I then took all the popcorn buckets up to the roof to collect any rain. I gathered all the food and water into the stairs going up to the roof. I then locked the door. It didn't take me long to fall asleep on the stairs. Dawn of the dead: I slept in because no light got into the stair well to wake me up. I went up to the roof and looked down at a horde surrounding the cinema! Just I was about to give up all hope I heard a roaring battle cry! A group of about 50 strong were charging the mob guns a blazing. They hit the mob with such a force that I was surprised they didn't all fall over. In the center of the group a hole formed. A masked man was standing in the middle of the zombies untouched! A path formed in the zombie horde and another man walked into the center gap and faced the hooded figure. I pulled out my cell phone and caught a picture of him. Battle Royale: The hooded figure stood and faced this newcomer. From below the hood came an odd sort of growling. "So we meet again Jensonson!" Said the hooded figure. "DON'T YOU DARE USE MY NAME YOU FILTH!" Yelled Jensonson. "Not even after all we've been through together?" said the hooded man in a sarcastic tone. "Pitman, I have nothing but hate for you!" So his name was Pitman. Pitman....NO! It can't be! Pitman, the heir of the Pitman Mansion? I had been there 2 days earlier on a noise complaint! I remember he smelled horrible. Like he hadn't bathed in weeks. His whole house had that stench but i couldn't find where it had come from.