Will be on hold during the BoS war - July 6-8 haha this is the second time I think during this story... Um.. And also bc I can't find my sign up sheet I'll have to invent names myself
Okay I'm awake again The boys wanted to go 48 hours But yay girlfriends we got highest PimD plunder ever Cyber can you give me a name for your character? I need a male military character to be added ASAP. New update as soon as I get that name Thanks everyone for bumping this for me, I'll keep writing as long as y'all keep wanting more.
Yeah sure, sign up please, I've lost my sign up sheet. I'll be writing it today... And I'll use your character Cyber, thanks.
As of now, I have not had time for PimD nor for formatting the story on this forum. HSotD will be updated irregularly by full chapter on external websites that it is already published on. Thanks for reading, and have a great summer
Hello everyone! It's been a long time, no? ... This little bit has been sitting on my computer for months and though I'm not pleased with it, with Halloween approaching rapidly I thought I'd release it in honor of HSotD's almost anniversary. Beware of cliffhangers. Enjoy. MSgt Denault looked out the windows at the bleakness of Holly Glen in the early morning light. Everything had a touch of gray over it, as if the town had been covered in ash and left to die. No people were out in the streets, no lights, no sound. As they approached the bigger roads, the driver slowed. Kristofer could see the signs of life now. Cars were overturned, some with smoke plumes billowing weakly from their hoods. One door sat ajar, the keys still in the ignition, but the driver missing. There were unmistakable blood stains on the ground. Sometimes entrails. And though there was much signs of violence, there was nothing living here. Everyone was in hiding, or already dead. Allie Southern who sat beside him was doing her solid best not to look anywhere but ahead at the man holding her prisoner, shooting death glares at him. She had stopped rubbing her wrists and had taken a passively aggressive pose by drumming her fingertips against her crossed arms. Kristofer was sure that if her thoughts were exposed she'd be creatively and thoroughly describing her revenge on them. “There's movement up ahead,” the woman up front said, her tone curt. “Them?” the man next to Allie asked. Kristofer glanced at Allie and saw that the Deputy was gripping the seat tightly now and flaring her nostrils. Her bright green eyes conveyed the nervous turmoil that was settling into his own stomach as well. He couldn't blame her. Whatever was going on here wasn't normal. “We don't have a choice,” the driver said. “The military facility is under siege, what would you suggest?” He smacked the steering wheel in irritation and swore. The woman was silent, but it was an unpleasant silence. “How many?” The man in the back gripped his assault rifle tightly. There was an uncomfortable pause from up front. “You won't like the answer,” the woman said. Kristofer Denault looked out the window and felt his breath leave his chest in a rush. Up ahead he could see a mass of them, standing at the border of the center square fountain. Their legs seemingly broken at crude angles, their arms shaking in anticipation to grab supple flesh to rend and tear. Their heads were tilted at bizarre slants, staring blankly ahead at them, thick bloody drool slipping over their gore stained teeth. Their eyes were the worst, just punctured black dots in the middle of blood-filled sclera. They seemed to have been waiting for someone to arrive, and at the sight of the military truck peaking the small eastern hill, they began running towards them like a giant wave of ants. The driver swore and threw the car into reverse, the tires squealing against the heated pavement. Allie screamed as she was thrown back against the window, the man in the back grabbing his gun and holding it like it was his only salvation. At this point, it probably was. “Screw the city!” the woman was screaming up front at the driver. “This is too much!” Staccato gunfire sounded from up front and Kristofer saw the woman shooting out the window, but her bullets were barely making a dent. The mass was moving in a well-organized formation all things considered and gaining ground rapidly. The driver swung the car around, tires spinning while trying to grab onto the concrete. “Give me your gun,” Kristofer Denault said to the man in the back who seemed paralyzed by fear. “I have dealt with them before, give me your gun.” The man stared at him and Kristofer could see the lines in the man's face. His eyes were wide and terrified. Any training he had undergone was leaving him in a hurry now, and he was only experiencing one primal feeling. Fear. “Give me your gun!” Kristofer roared, lunging at the man, and quickly slamming his fist into the man's stomach right under the ribs. Kristofer wrested the gun from him and backed away from the crumpled form. “Get to the safe area!” the woman was shouting. The driver was shouting back. But everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Kristofer felt the truck sliding as it rounded a turn and when he blinked his eyes open he was lying upside down against the wall of the truck, his head pounding. Allie lay next to him unconscious, and the man in the back had disappeared. There was gunfire from outside the truck but it seemed blurry and faded in his ringing ears, and Kristofer wasn't sure if he was just imagining it after all. Looking out the cracked window he saw what looked like a grocery store about 30 yards away, the parking lot dotted with abandoned cars. Kicking open the door Kristofer froze as he came face to face with a grisly sight. Hunched over the body of the man that had been in the back of the truck with them was a gruff man in flannel, his hands covered in blood and clutching what looked to be intestines. Fresh blood was dripping from his beard and his eyes snapped to Kristofer immediately. He seemed to smile before lunging at Kristofer. Kristofer grabbed the gun and kicked out as hard as he could, the man barely reeling back even from all the force Kristofer could muster. The man grabbed his legs and Kristofer felt his back sliding across the truck away from the gun. Allie still lay unconscious, oblivious to the turmoil that was ensuing just mere feet away. Kristofer felt his pants tearing as he struggled to pull away. His fingertips couldn't reach the gun, and he gave a cry of desperation. He pushed himself up as the man went to bite his leg and punched the guy straight in the jaw. The man didn't seem to notice. Kristofer grappled with him clumsily, the man slowly crushing his left leg with an iron grip. He was thrown back, his head snapping against the interior of the truck and as he looked up at the door handle he prepared himself for the end. The end that came with a bang.