User:Blue Command Vic/Vic's Journal

Vic's Journal

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	Roleplaying Notice
	Notice: This User or Group enjoys the RPG aspect of MMORPGs, the category of games that Urban Dead falls into. As such, there is probably quite a bit of roleplaying and/or creative writing on this page and in said User/Group's in-game actions. In other words, if you think the difference between IC and OOC is "One has an 'I' and the other has two 'O's," buzz off.

Vic D'Amato
Starting Occupation: Private Group Membership: No affiliation Goals: Survive. Wait for extraction. Try to keep things from going pear-shaped. Username: Blue Command Vic More details: Urban Dead profile

Army Life

I lived a normal life in the army. Well, as normal as life on a remote desert outpost could be. Blood Gulch was the last stopping-off point on the average soldier's trip back home. A year in the valley was like hell on earth. No human contact outside of the unit, constant skirmishes with an enemy that felt content to simply yell at you before running back to their base, and a tank with an attitude. Come to think of it, there were never any real battles at Blood Gulch. The scope on the sniper rifle was used more as binoculars than an aiming device, and somehow, it doubled as a long-range directional microphone. Army technology, huh?

Home Sweet Home?

The orders finally came to head home. The convoy made a few stops along the way, dropping soldiers off in Kennebuck, Witchikatchee, and Titticaca on the road back to the base. Last stop before the truck returned to base was a town called Malton. I'd never heard of it, much less been there, but it was about to become my home for a while.

Surviving Malton

August 30th, 2006

My convoy was ambushed by a horde of what looked to be the undead. That's impossible, though, right? Zombies only exist in the movies. Dead people don't just get up and walk around...Do they?

I managed to free my Desert Eagle from its holster, and fired off a few rounds at the walking dead. Headshots worked well, they went down for good if you took out the brain. Kill the head, kill the ghoul. I made my way to a local PD, where I found a group of survivors waiting out the night. Nearly 50 of them, crammed into the police station like sardines in a can. I made a quick survey of my gear. Two more clips for the pistol, twelve shots in total. I snapped one into place, and went searching for other stuff.

I was in luck. A few hours of searching netted me a double barrelled shotgun, loaded with 00 buckshot, an extra shell, a small transistor radio, a pair of wirecutters, and a flare gun. The radio was tuned to 28.01Mhz, and a transmission was coming in. "Attention, all survivors in the suburb of Dulston. This is the Dulston Defense Death Squad. We are stationed in Treweeke Mall, just north of Pescodside. You are encouraged to join us in defending the mall from the zombie hordes. Stores in the mall are open for looting, but please do so in a peaceful manner. Our policy states that an enemy is anyone, living or otherwise, who threatens to harm a survivor. That is all for now. Good night and good luck." The transmission clicked off, and I looked out the windows of the police station to see night beginning to fall. It was now or never.

I made a break for the mall. Dodging the individual zombies was quite easy. Death has a way of slowing down the average human. For the larger groups, I had to shoot my way through. I used up a clip and a half, bringing my ammo down to the two bullets left in the Deagle, the two shells in the Winchester, and the extra shell in my pocket. I had managed to lose the wirecutters on the way. I didn't know what I had planned to use them for, anyway. I still haven't found a fence without a big hole in it, or any wires that needed cutting. I would have to find more, but for now, at least I was safe in the mall. I was handed a Budweiser at the door, and picked up a bottle of Marlot from a nearby store. My first night in this hell was about to begin. When I got through it safely, I would have to celebrate. For now, though, my priority was finding ammo. I couldn't find any serious ammo, so I decided to try to get some sleep. Luckily, the mall had a furniture store, and I found an empty couch to curl up on.

August 31st, 2006

Morning came, and I decided to head out and take the battle to the zombie bastards. I went off to the northwest, and came across a nightclub. Screams hit me from inside. I kicked in the lightly barricaded door, and the sight before me was revolting. A group of survivors huddled behind the bar, as a zombie shuffled over from the dance floor. Time to get to work...

It didn't go down. It took everything I threw at him, and wouldn't die. The thing was wearing what looked like a flak jacket, and I think I saw a badge glinting in the dim lights of the club. I used up all my ammo, and when the creature kept shambling along, I had no choice but to run. Hightailing it back to the mall was the only thing left to do. Cowardly, maybe, but I wasn't about to die over a single zombie. I made my way back to the police station to find some ammo, and managed to scrounge up two clips for my pistol. Tired from the sprint, I sat on the floor to rest.

As I sat there, a man burst through the door, breathing heavily. He reached into his pocket, and quickly reloaded the pistol in his hands. He stood by the door and, between breaths, asked "Anyone here hurt? I found a first aid kit." Before anyone could answer, a rotting arm reached in through the door and grabbed him around the neck. His gun clattered to the floor, and the creature dragged him out into the street. A few people ran over, but not to help. They picked up nearby hammers and nails, and re-barricaded the door he had opened. I walked over to help them, and when the job was finished, I picked up his pistol, stuffing it under my belt. It was a Glock. That guy must've been a cop before this whole thing went down. It's too bad, really. We could use more good shooters around here.

Night came quickly once again, and I reloaded my pistol in anticipation of whatever might come in the darkness. I grabbed a nearby bench, and curled up for another night of hoping I'm not murdered in my sleep by one of those things. That wasn't even the worst thought in my head. What if I became one of them?

September 1st, 2006

I killed another of those sons of bitches today. Went out for a quick scouting trip, as the radio transmissions requested. Headed southwest from the mall, and found a straggler outside of an old auto repair shop. It only took a few shots before it went down for good. My second pistol round caught it in the jaw, and tore off the lower half of its face. The lower jaw clattered to the ground, skin falling from it even as it laid there. Revolted, I managed to squeeze off another shot, and that one hit the damned thing right above the eye, putting it on the ground faster than anything I've ever seen. I got back to the mall to stock up and reload, and on my way through, I was getting the strangest looks from people. I didn't figure it out until I passed one of the few shops with its front glass intact. I turned and caught my reflection.

I was grinning...Like some kind of deranged carnival clown.

When I got calmed down, I noticed a crackling noise from my radio. I turned up the volume, and the message came in. "To all survivors in southern Dulston, including Treweeke Mall: The Dulston Defense Death Squad is requesting that able-bodied and well-armed survivors make occasional scouting trips into northern Pescodside. A large horde of zombie activity is expected soon, and small groups, even pairs or single zombies, will be the advance troops. Please report back in, using mobile phones if you are not qualified to broadcast on the radio. Thank you." The crackling static resumed, and I tucked the radio back into my pocket. Checking my ammunition supply, I found one bullet in the Glock, six in the Deagle, and a single clip. Two empty shotguns laid nearby, but without ammunition, they were useless.

I stepped out of the mall carefully, seeing nothing in the area, and made my way southeast. I traveled several blocks with nothing to report, and came across a police department. The sign in front declared it to be the Lentell Walk PD. The front doors hung open on their hinges, and I carefully peeked aroung the corner, looking inside. What I saw horrified me.

Nine, maybe ten zombies, huddled on the floor, feasting on a dead body. I contemplated rushing the group, but with only 7 shots without reloading, I'd be a sitting duck when one of my pistols ran out. I crept back to a nearby hotel instead, and clicked on the radio to report my findings. Another survivor had the same idea, apparently, and had barricaded the doors to ensure his safety. I grabbed the key to room 101 from behind the desk, and headed off for a nap.

I woke up with a jerk. God. The nightmares. They were starting already. How long was I asleep? My watch read 2300. Better head back to the mall. If something was really headed that way, they'd need all the help they could get.

I took the long route, taking time to scout a little more of northern Pescodside, but saw nothing. The mall was a welcome sight, and I decided to take a turn on the night watch.

September 2nd, 2006

Quiet today. Too quiet. News came in a few minutes ago that a big group of zombies was coming in from the west, so everyone went on the alert. We'll see what happens, I guess... Found another pistol clip, so I figure I got 19 shots to take a few of these things down when they came in.

Date Unknown

I pulled myself off the pavement slowly, and the buzzing in my ears subsided. A rush of adrenaline hit me, and I stood up, swiveling my head to get my bearings. I was outside the mall. How in the hell? I got lost inside my head for a bit, trying to figure out how I could manage to fall asleep outside the mall, let alone survive the night. A low groan snapped me out of my daydream, and I looked behind me to see a horde of the undead on their way to the mall. My legs finally started up again, and I sprinted for the doors...

October 11th, 2006

I forgot about this thing. Found it in an old duffel bag I'd been using for my gear. A little fall cleaning helps sometimes, I guess.

My body count is up to twelve, I think. Of course, that's only the kills I remember. Unfortunately, I've been (un)dead a couple of times, and I'm afraid to even think of what I did while in that state.

The duffel is full of gear now. Four empty shotguns, eight assorted pistols, 7 extra clips, a GPS unit I found at the Radio Hut in Treweeke Mall, and a first-aid kit.

I've been improving my skills steadily. My aim is much better lately, and I've learned the best ways to build barricades. Finding gear has become easier too, now that I know the layout of the mall. I'm trying to learn some more advanced first aid, so I can help out some more. For now, though, I'm tired. Hopefully I'll start writing in this thing more often.

October 13th, 2006

Killed another one of those damn things today. Got him inside a library. He - IT - was standing between a couple of stacks, and I put a few clips of pistol ammo into it before I put one into its head. It fell over, and crashed into the shelf, causing a chain reaction that sent three more stacks toppling over.

That felt good.

I made my way back to the now-familiar mall, and as I write this, I'm searching the gun shop for more ammo. Time to call it a night, I think. The mile walk and the kill really wore me down.

October 25th, 2006

The days seem to be getting longer and longer as I stay in this hell hole. Those things just keep coming, and I can't seem to put them away fast enough to ward off my own death. Judging by the wounds on my body and the reports of creatures wearing my fatigues, I'm guessing I've died close to twenty times now.

I will continue to write in this notebook as long as my strength holds up and my pen still has ink, although I suppose a lack of the latter wouldn't stop me for too long. There seems to be a neverending supply of blood around here, and I'm not adverse to using it to document my stay here in Malton.

If this notebook ever gets outside the city walls, I hope my family gets to read it. They need to know what happened here. Someone needs to record the events of this hellish city.

God, the nightmares are horrible. On the rare occasions that I actually get some sleep, I'm quickly jerked awake with fright. The sights of the once-human creatures, shambling around in the streets, flesh falling off their arms and legs as they lurch towards the huddled survivors en masse...It's enough to drive a man to the edge. Sometimes, when I get to the city limits to the north and east of me, I'm tempted to try to scale the wall surrounding us, fencing us in like so many cattle. Of course, I'd be dead before I got to the top, let alone over and gone. The armed MPs at the guard stations wouldn't bat an eyelash at shooting me dead. The only problem with that line of thinking is that death is merely an inconvenience in Malton. The dead simply rise up from wherever they fell, same as before, only more resilient, and with a thirst for blood.

"Because I could not stop for Death
He kindly stopped for me"

October 28th, 2006

The group that's been running this end of town has decided to fight back against the people trying to sabotage our efforts. Apparently some people have the notion that killing humans is just like killing zombies. I've signed up to try to bring a little street justice into Dulston. A list of targets is being made up as i write this. I've decided that once I get it, I'll stick the paper in this journal, in case something happens to me.

• belowthesalt
• bonerlord
• Bonham
• Charon's Freight
• Clayton Bulwer
• deadself
• Derek Withers
• Divine Comedy
• Elegant Do
• Jonny Boy Jr II
• ltdangle
• Obmi
• Officer Koopy
• Silas Slear
• Skargutz
• The Adept
• ZombieMonag

October 30th, 2006

November 25th, 2006

Thanksgiving came and went, without so much as a turkey. Nobody celebrated, but it doesn't surprise me. Not much surprises me anymore. The zombies celebrated, of course. They managed to take down a mall and a fort within a week of each other. The "feasts" must have been horrific.

I've been giving thought lately to moving out of this suburb. The violence between survivors is getting out of hand, especially between Dead vs Blue and DORIS. It's just ridiculous hearsay, escalating into all-out war. I think some time away from it all could do me good. Where I'd go, that's another question. Maybe Earletown. I hear they need some people with experience over there. Some new groups forming up and looking for a leader or two.

November 26th, 2006

I made it into Earletown today. Leaving Dulston was easier than I thought it'd be. I've really got no connection to the place.

March 3rd, 2009

It feels like I've been asleep for years. I woke up today, and Dulston looked completely different than I remembered. To be honest, i don't remember coming back here at all. Something drove me back, I guess. All my ammunition is gone, and I don't have so much as a blunt object, so for now I'm going to get myself patched up, find somewhere to hole up for a while, and then head out periodically to get some more ammo.

I stopped to rest in the Whitlock Building, and found Officer Murphy while I was there. He offered me a spot back in Dead vs Blue, and how could I say no?