5 Weeks after the Knox Event
Stanley was nothing special. He never was. And he wasn’t supposed to be.
Seeing how his life was before the end of the fucking world, it would be easy to completely miss him. He was an unemployed 24 year old who had recently been fired from Mcdonalds, and was still living with his parents after dropping out of college. Was heavily in debt, and was becoming an active alcoholic that was getting worse by the weeks. The only redeeming “qualities” he had would be the simple fact he was heavily interested in history and just plainly addicted to video games.
Heh. . .
Maybe it really was his addiction to shooters that made him last this long, or maybe it was the mere human instinct to keep himself alive as much as possible.
But all of that didn’t matter anymore, As a heavily bandaged left arm was a clear indication on what happened, and what might happen next.
As he sat down inside the interior of an FBI Mobile Command Center, his mind was in a state of complete void as everything around him became numb. It was even to a point that it drowned out the growls and groans of the contorted undead that was banging and clawing the momentary safe haven he was in.
He felt. . . nothing, he didn’t feel sick, he didn’t cough out blood or anything, But at the same time, he didn’t feel good. Far from good, because he already knew he was dying. And all because he made an easily avoidable mistake.
If he had just fucking slept in this Vehicle instead of looking for a house in the middle of the night, he wouldn’t have had an interaction with those skinny demonic looking motherfuckers. Maybe if he knew that his armor was complete bullshit against the bites of the undead then maybe he could’ve convinced himself to stay in the fucking vehicle.
But nooo. He just had to choose comfort over logic, even at the end of fucking mankind he had to choose comfort instead of safety. And this is how he’s gonna die, he’s gonna die stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere within the boundaries of Texas, far from where he was used too, all in some vain fucking attempt to find some an outpost that survived. He was stupid enough to believe there was some secured safe haven as he should’ve figured out by the beginning that everyone turned over the course of a fucking week that the chances of an outpost outside of Kentucky were down to shits to one.
Stanley then felt a sudden discomfort in his left hand, his eyes narrowed as he lifted his gloved hand to look at it. He moved the fingers of his hand. Only the upper three responded well while the bottom two were, sluggish.
He hastily removed the leathered glove and he froze. What he saw was what confirmed his greatest fear that he wished never had to come. His lower hand was pale white with some of the flesh looking like it was going to decay soon. As quickly as he took the glove off, he did as quickly when putting it back.
His pupils had shrunk as he began to digest what was really to happen. No matter how much he tries to convince him with the false hope that it’ll go away with some pill or that his immunity has worked against the airborne strain, that it’ll surely work now. But. . .
After seeing his left hand in the condition it was in just mere hours after being bitten, it just practically confirmed that he was dying, and it was coming in fast.
His trembling right hand made contact as he slowly removed the gas mask as his expression was that of absolute terror as he gritted his teeth and his eyes began to water. He then loudly banged his head to the walls of the interior as this noise aggravated the undead outside even more than the banging was accompanied by the growls and scratches of those outside.
Why. . . .
Why.
Why!?
Why did he have to be the “Lucky” few at the end of the world!? He was a complete nobody! A worthless scrap of scum in the face of the planet! He didn’t contribute to the well being of society! He didn’t serve this joke of a country! And he had always been a disappointment to his parents!
Why. . . Just why. . .
Tears began to pour out of his eye sockets as he wailed out loudly as his body shook as he covered his face with his gloved hands, he was most likely in such a state for a complete minute as he suddenly coughed out blood, and the blood was landed on the floor next to him and it both looked fresh and rotten at the same time.
Stanley whimpered ever so slightly as he coughed a couple more times before he took a slow glance to his firearm that was firmly placed in his holster. The pistol was that of a Glock 17m, an FBI standard issue sidearm, a reliable handgun if his experience with the Glock was anything to by with these past weeks. But the main problem he always found with this gun was the goddamn noise it produced, of course, it didn’t cause so much trouble, as these fuckers are sometimes blind and deaf, but also the same time very hearing sensitive and having eyes that of an eagle.
But noise will no longer be an issue for Stanley Waltan. .
He then moved his right hand towards the holster and grabbed a direct hold of the handle of the Glock, he then slowly pulled it out as he observed it. The dried specks of blood on the handle and firing point of the gun could retell all the close calls he had during his adventure during his time in the dead state. He clicked off the safety as he calmly but shakily pulled back the slide and slowly directed the gun toward his forehead.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
His grip on the Glock 17 was that of hesitance and shaky as his fragile mind was beginning to doubt whether he should even do this.
He was afraid, point blank. He wasn’t afraid that he was going to die, he had made up his mind on that part. But he's afraid of what is on the other side.
He never considered himself to be a religious man, he never was into the concept of Christianity despite his parents being devoted Catholics. At the time there was simply no evidence in his mind to suggest that Heaven or Hell was even real in the first place.
But seeing how the people had become when succumbing to this plague. Their distorted heads and limbs, their bodies becoming a color of gray full of decay, their mouths becoming larger, and becoming the user's new face. And even horrific examples of them becoming less human were a bunch of naked undead whose bodies just became naked but without any specific features and their arms replaced with flesh tentacles. And even rare cases where they become either a floating creature or. . just a pile of flesh with mouths. .
These factors alone were enough to become a Christian, one who believes there is a heaven or hell. And he was now hoping that. .His previous sins wouldn’t place him into hell. That he’ll get to see his parents and his older sister once more. .While there was nothing to support this.
He placed his finger into the trigger of the now calm grip on the pistol as Stanley slowly closed his eyes as a single tear went down his face..
He was willing to take his chances with that small piece of hope.
He pulled the trigger on the sidearm and a single bullet penetrated his head killing him instantly, his entire body went limp as blood began to pour out of the open wound in the head. His soul can finally see out of the hellish experience he had endured, he no longer has to feel fear anymore.
The mind of Stanley Walton was now in internal peace.
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As the day passed after the passing of Stanley Waltan, the damned creatures that attempted to get inside the Command Center soon lost their interest in the vehicle as no movement or sound was heard from inside the vehicle was enough to convince them to get them to wander off into the desolate streets of Beaumont in the hopes of looking a new prey.
After the day passed into the middle of the night, something peculiar occurred as the Mobile Command Center began to shake violently, almost as if an earthquake had just occurred but was only affecting the vehicle as the alarms began to blur off.
But as if the hand of god had entered the soil of the earth, a blast of light encompassed the entire street as the undead nearby in the street began to shuffle towards the newfound noise in the area.
As they arrived on the rotting street, the only thing greeting them was mere disappointment as the undead wandered into the street without finding any fresh soul in sight. As quickly as they came, they slowly wandered off into the midst of the night.
But one thing was missing from that street aside from the abandoned vehicles and bloodied street. A certain Vehicle pertaining to the FBI was missing as only a burning crater was left behind on its stead.
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Reanna Myrtie was told that she was too curious for her own good.
Whether it would be poking into her sister's sacred belongings or randomly going into the same room where her relatives are having sex due to her hearing a “Strange” sound in their room. Myrtie was always looked upon by these factors and it got to a point where her sister, Ericka, had accused her of trying to steal her husband when she barged into her room that afternoon. Annoyed and flustered by this accusation, she decided to run away until she showed her older sister that she could find a husband.
And now cue to her walking through the forest in the middle of the night flustered and embarrassed as now she had to return home with nothing to show for her time and effort is out. Now she had to face her sister, possibly mocking directly to her face about her not finding a husband at the age she is in.
As she was fuming at that eventual confrontation, something in the distance caught her attention as her eyes were now directed deep into the forest, there was light that momentarily emitted until it disappeared and it was immediately followed by parts of metal landing into the ground.
Reanna looked at the part of the forest where the sound was made, she looked left and right to see if any other monster girl had taken notice, the only thing she heard from her ears was that of sounds from the trees. She took a glance at the night sky before smiling curiously, she knew it was dead late in the middle of the night, but it wouldn’t hurt to find out what exactly caused that flashing light now would it?
The werecat began her walk toward the suspected area of interest, the walk wasn’t very eventful as she soon saw the. . Armored Home?
The sight of the Armored building was utterly confusing as the sight of it looked weird, it looked tall and imposing even with its black and white color scheme, the top of it was completely white as it was placed with odd looking dishes as there was a point coming from the middle of it looking up above into the sky. She then saw something that made her completely unsettled.
Blood. . There was blood all over the armored building, the blood looked both rotten as if it’d been laying there for weeks while it looked redder as it was just a mere hours old, the windows in the front looked cracked to hell as the side windows were all broken, there were also scratches all over the building as some were small but other made dents.
Confusion and fear ran all over the mind of Reanna as she saw this, one questioning what had happened to even occur in the first place. Did bandits attack this home and butchered the family living in it? But how did it even get here in the first pla-
Then the metallic door in the side began to shake violently as low groans of pain were soon heard from inside. Initially confused at first at the sudden noise but she made the immediate conclusion that someone was inside of the home and were the ones to teleport out whatever situation they were in and the possibility of them being wounded was high.
She immediately rushed to the door and examined it at any handle, after the assumption of finding one, she immediately pulled on it and to her relief the door opened and saw the occupant inside.
She was greeted by a human male with its eyes being mushed from the inside out as a black void as its mouth was wide open revealing its sharp teeth.
If she had any sense of danger she had put herself in, then she would have run as far away as possible when she first heard the horrid groans, but instead of that she was tackled into the ground as the armored man took a chunk of meat from her neck.
The immediate reaction to this was absolute terror as she tried with all her might to pull herself away from the human monster but no matter how much strength she had put into the pull, the monster kept his grip on her as he took his next bite to his arm.
With no other options, she screamed. She screamed for help, from anybody to rescue her from the grasp of the creature on her ground. She screamed for her family, for her sisters. But no one came.
In the coming minutes, the screams soon died out in the forest and it was soon replaced by low and slow wet rips as the ripping of flesh continued all the way to the morning. Within that night, the life of Werecat Reanna Myrtie ceased to exist.
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The living corpse looked around his surroundings as his pained moans escaped from his bloody mouth. Whatever memory that was stored from his mind didn’t recognize where he was or how he got there, but that confusion was then soon removed as his urge to eat flesh increased. The body he had feasted on, while good, wasn’t enough to linger down his desire for more.
He began to wander away from the Mobile Command Center for its hopes of finding its next meal until he suddenly stopped in his tracks. For whatever reason the undead didn’t feel. . safe? He didn’t feel safe lingering out there without a certain object.
The lingering memory was then fully realized as the undead then turned around and remembered something exact. He lingered across as he trembly went over the steps until he tripped and fell on the floor of the interior, as the undead was in the process of standing up, he saw it. His mask was near a pool of blood.
As he crawled over, he pushed aside a sidearm as one of his bloodied gloved hands picked it up and he surveyed it closely before trying to put it on, it failed in the first initial attempts but he was finally able to place it in place, and kept it there.
As the undead stood up, he took one look in the mirror as he saw how bloody his entire body was after feasting on the meat mere hours ago. The living figure didn’t take any notice of this problem as he slowly stumbled out into the earth’s soil and took a glance up at the sky.
He then began to shamble out into the woods, permanently leaving behind his vehicle and the open headless corpse as he began his endeavor out into the unknown.