User:Solarius/Reclamation: Difference between revisions
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Five years. It's been five goddamn years since this hell of a mess began. Believe me, when I received my orders, I thought High Command was pulling my leg. A breakout of an infection which can turn the living into undead zombies...sounded something straight out of some | Five years. It's been five goddamn years since this hell of a mess began. Believe me, when I received my orders, I thought High Command was pulling my leg. A breakout of an infection which can turn the living into undead zombies...sounded like something straight out of some cheap science fiction story, like the ones that my nephew reads. At least now the worst is behind us. All that's left now is sort out the mess left behind. So I guess you want to hear it, don't you? How we were able to finally solve the Malton crisis? | ||
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Well son, you came to the right place. For the last few years, my job has been to | Well son, you came to the right place. For the last few years, my job has been to gather intelligence on exactly what goes on inside that city, to provide external tactical and occasional material support, to evacuate any uninfected civilians that were still holding out, and to brief my superiors on any changes on the situation. Our intelligence came from radio transmissions from within the city as well as a weekly helicopter patrols over certain suburbs in the city. Occasionally, we got our hands on material that survivors were trying to send to the outside world, such as journals written by survivors recording their experience, fights, victories and losses. These were somehow thrown over the city perimeter wall. I believe you know something about that, don't you? | ||
''Hey, don't blame me, you guys weren't telling us anything at the time.'' | ''Hey, don't blame me, you guys weren't telling us anything at the time. You had a full media blackout going on. What was I supposed to do? Sit on my ass while the greatest story of my career just happened?'' | ||
Fair enough. Anyway, I suppose I should start telling you how the end of zombies came to be. Now, let's start at the beginning of the end, shall we? After the 5th Siege of Caiger Mall... | Fair enough, fair enough. Anyway, I suppose I should start telling you how the end of zombies came to be. Now, let's start at the beginning of the end, shall we? After the 5th Siege of Caiger Mall... | ||
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Oh, right. Well, ever since the outbreak, the people of Malton divided themselves into numerous groups. You wouldn't believe how much of a pain it's been trying to keep track of all these groups, their locations, and their activities, along side with keeping track of the zombies themselves! I swear, its ridiculous. These groups range from military-like outfits to death cults. | Oh, right. Well, ever since the outbreak, the people of Malton divided themselves into numerous groups. You wouldn't believe how much of a pain it's been trying to keep track of all these groups, their locations, and their activities, along side with keeping track of the zombies themselves! I swear, its ridiculous. These groups range from military-like outfits to death cults. Yeah, you heard me..Death cults. Groups of maniacs who see the ability of dying to become a zombie and then being able to revive again as some sort of freaking religion. God, you have no idea how many times I've been tempted to order a bombing run on certain buildings. A well-aimed bomb on a small building here and...BOOM! A death cult calling themselves The Burger King Death Squad would be erased from history! | ||
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Yeah, I know, what the | Yeah, I know, what the fuck is wrong with these people. Trust me, you don't want to know. Hell, I don't want to know. | ||
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Yeah, sure, sorry. Anyways, since the beginning of the Outbreak, Caiger Mall, a four-block mall between the suburbs of Chudleyton and Darvall Heights had stood as THE primary symbol of human resistance against the zombie hordes, and as such, was defended by several different groups. That was, of course, until the third siege, when the mall fell into zombie hands. Since then, the mall just exchanged ownders every few months. Anyway, after the 5th "Great Siege", the survivors of the siege were scattered, began to regroup and plan how to take back Caigar Mall...again. However, this one scientist had an idea. During the battle, he had collected a sample of zombie flesh | Yeah, sure, sorry. Anyways, since the beginning of the Outbreak, Caiger Mall, a four-block mall between the suburbs of Chudleyton and Darvall Heights had stood as THE primary symbol of human resistance against the zombie hordes, and as such, was defended by several different groups. That was, of course, until the third siege, when the mall fell into zombie hands. Since then, the mall just exchanged ownders every few months. Anyway, after the 5th "Great Siege", the survivors of the siege were scattered, began to regroup and plan how to take back Caigar Mall...again. However, this one scientist had an idea. During the battle, he had collected a particularly unique sample of zombie flesh. He theorized that the flesh sample came from one, if not the original zombie. The believed that it could be used to synthesize an effective "cure" for the infection, and had the potential to permanently destroy an undead creature. He gathered a small following, and proceeded west to a NecroTech building in Peddlesden Village known as the Bascombe Building. Over the next three months, this scientist, with the help of a few assistants, worked endlessly to synthesize his so-called "solution to this madness". | ||
'' | ''And he succeeded?'' | ||
(Colonel Howard nods) | |||
On the 100th day of his work, he was able to produce his cure. He immediately proceeded to test it on one of the zombies that had been besieging his building for the last few days. Apparently, after being injected with the solution, the zombie fell down dead and didn't get up! That crazy son of a bitch had actually made the cure! | |||
''Vita Pura, correct?'' | |||
That's what he decided to call it, yes. Vita Pura, or True Life. | |||
Revision as of 00:07, 11 December 2009
Reclamation
I am in the office of Colonel Michael Howard, who commands all military forces posted around Malton. It is his ultimate responsibility to not allow anything unauthorized to leave the city, alive or otherwise. The forty-seven year old man's expression is tired, and he looks out the window as our interview begins:
Five years. It's been five goddamn years since this hell of a mess began. Believe me, when I received my orders, I thought High Command was pulling my leg. A breakout of an infection which can turn the living into undead zombies...sounded like something straight out of some cheap science fiction story, like the ones that my nephew reads. At least now the worst is behind us. All that's left now is sort out the mess left behind. So I guess you want to hear it, don't you? How we were able to finally solve the Malton crisis?
Yes. Only a few scant details are known, but I'm hoping to get the full story from you.
Well son, you came to the right place. For the last few years, my job has been to gather intelligence on exactly what goes on inside that city, to provide external tactical and occasional material support, to evacuate any uninfected civilians that were still holding out, and to brief my superiors on any changes on the situation. Our intelligence came from radio transmissions from within the city as well as a weekly helicopter patrols over certain suburbs in the city. Occasionally, we got our hands on material that survivors were trying to send to the outside world, such as journals written by survivors recording their experience, fights, victories and losses. These were somehow thrown over the city perimeter wall. I believe you know something about that, don't you?
Hey, don't blame me, you guys weren't telling us anything at the time. You had a full media blackout going on. What was I supposed to do? Sit on my ass while the greatest story of my career just happened?
Fair enough, fair enough. Anyway, I suppose I should start telling you how the end of zombies came to be. Now, let's start at the beginning of the end, shall we? After the 5th Siege of Caiger Mall...
The what?
Oh, right. Well, ever since the outbreak, the people of Malton divided themselves into numerous groups. You wouldn't believe how much of a pain it's been trying to keep track of all these groups, their locations, and their activities, along side with keeping track of the zombies themselves! I swear, its ridiculous. These groups range from military-like outfits to death cults. Yeah, you heard me..Death cults. Groups of maniacs who see the ability of dying to become a zombie and then being able to revive again as some sort of freaking religion. God, you have no idea how many times I've been tempted to order a bombing run on certain buildings. A well-aimed bomb on a small building here and...BOOM! A death cult calling themselves The Burger King Death Squad would be erased from history!
Umm...
Yeah, I know, what the fuck is wrong with these people. Trust me, you don't want to know. Hell, I don't want to know.
Can we get back to...
Yeah, sure, sorry. Anyways, since the beginning of the Outbreak, Caiger Mall, a four-block mall between the suburbs of Chudleyton and Darvall Heights had stood as THE primary symbol of human resistance against the zombie hordes, and as such, was defended by several different groups. That was, of course, until the third siege, when the mall fell into zombie hands. Since then, the mall just exchanged ownders every few months. Anyway, after the 5th "Great Siege", the survivors of the siege were scattered, began to regroup and plan how to take back Caigar Mall...again. However, this one scientist had an idea. During the battle, he had collected a particularly unique sample of zombie flesh. He theorized that the flesh sample came from one, if not the original zombie. The believed that it could be used to synthesize an effective "cure" for the infection, and had the potential to permanently destroy an undead creature. He gathered a small following, and proceeded west to a NecroTech building in Peddlesden Village known as the Bascombe Building. Over the next three months, this scientist, with the help of a few assistants, worked endlessly to synthesize his so-called "solution to this madness".
And he succeeded?
(Colonel Howard nods)
On the 100th day of his work, he was able to produce his cure. He immediately proceeded to test it on one of the zombies that had been besieging his building for the last few days. Apparently, after being injected with the solution, the zombie fell down dead and didn't get up! That crazy son of a bitch had actually made the cure!
Vita Pura, correct?
That's what he decided to call it, yes. Vita Pura, or True Life.
