[IC] The Apartment Building | Survival Horror

[Lone Wanderer]

It had quickly become apparent that this situation was going from dire to shit, or was it the other way around? It also became apparent to Ryan that he would be useless here, as he watched those few armed with weapons hold back the infected.
I need a weapon, anything that can help
This idea was made solid by the shouting from above, something about hundreds and heading this way. He could only hear so much over the shouting of a panicking crowd. His thoughts fell on his apartment, specifically on his .38 revolver somewhere within. He just had to get there, the third room of the fourth floor, just 2 floors above, he could make it.
"MOVE, MOVE!" Ryan shouted as he pushed his way along the landing, making his way through the crowd, some scrambling to their apartments floors above, others pushing their way into any open door that presented itself. He hoped those he were leaving behind didn't think he was abandoning them, in some bid to save himself. The crowd began to lessen as he made his way further away from the scene, only a few people where on the floors above. He hoped that none of them where infected, or this idea wasn't going to end how he'd planned. Running now, he turned up the next flight of stairs, scrambling up the flight until he was on the fourth floor. Practically slamming into the door, his thoughts where jumbled, this whole situation was hopeless.

Checking his pockets, after what seemed like minutes ticking by of him searching each of his pockets to no avail. He produced a key, hurriedly he jammed the key into the lock, with a turn that produced a click he never thought he'd be so happy to hear in his life. He swung open the door, took a step in and slammed it shut behind him, placing the key back in the lock and twisting it once more, he checked that the door was locked before taking the security door chain and slamming it into the slot on the door. Slumping against the door, he allowed himself to breathe, he took a look back at his apartment for the first time since he'd entered...

[hivekiller]

The lobby of the Three Towers Apartment Complex.

Tyson was standing in the middle of the lobby area, not knowing what he should do next. He could just ran upstairs like most of the people, and locked himself up in his apartment unit. Or maybe he could help those brave ones out by... Cooking them a hot meal? Tyson had no idea of what he could do to help them, so it would probably be better if he just go back to his apartment unit. Right after Tyson decided to walk towards the stairs, the pastor asked him for help. Finally, a job that Tyson was able to carry out other than cooking this and that. Tyson's current mission was to barricade the stairwell after everyone was up.

"Ok, I'll..." The pastor did not waited for Tyson to respond, and he started to escort the crowd one by one. Tyson probably should start doing his part of the work too, before the apartment started to be overwhelmed by the zombies. While Tyson was waiting for the crowds to escape at the lobby area, he heard some shouting coming from above him. But no gunshots, for Tyson who just experienced the world turning into a living nightmare within an hour, he thought that gunshots would always came along with the sound of screaming and shouting. He was wrong this time, but by not wasting more time he ran up to the second floor and probably got a shock of his life.

The firewoman that Tyson saw earlier, was stomping a.... was that a dog? Yes. She was clearly stomping a dog. The dog's flesh was dark and bloody even for a dead dog. Never seen something that ugly and disgusting before, must be a german shepard... labrador... retriever... Whatever... Tyson was never a dog lover nor a dog hater. But how did the dog reached this far, Tyson was very sure that a few people stayed at the lobby area to hold the line, it couldn't came from the lobby so the only possibility was the upper floors.

Tyson decided to postpone his help to barricade the stairwell, walked towards where his apartment unit was at to grab some equipment before everything were gone. Tyson was complaining about living on the second floor was noisy enough to make him unable to sleep before the hell broke out, but now he was relief that he stayed on the second floor. Judging by the fact that how the zombie dog managed to reach the second floor means that there was a possibility that a zombie would appeared in his apartment unit. Tyson opened the front door slowly, hoped that nobody heard it(if something's in there) and checked the living room. Tyson closed the door back before him and locked it. The music can still be heard coming from the radio, the fan was still on and the kitchen food menu design he was working on still looks pretty bad, at least in his opinion.

Tyson checked the whole place, even the shoes wardrobes and the toilet bowl. After Tyson was sure that he was alone, he began to search for weapons and useful equipment. The first choice were the knives in the kitchen, as he has his own way with the knives as a chef. After he took two different knives from the kitchen shelves, he proceed to grab his beg pack from the bedroom along with some mineral waters and canned foods. Tyson was preparing for the worst, although that the situation at the apartment was already felt like the worst for him.

[Komo]

Three Towers Apartment Complex, Second Floor Hallway

Lucy was with the bunch of people holding up the second floor. She gripped the handle of her aluminium baseball bat firmly as the snarling sounds of the infected increased by the passing moment. At least they had managed to barricade what stairwell entrance leading to the second floor, but she knew that their makeshift barricade would only withstand so much. And the group didn't really seem to have a plan at the moment, they were just doing whatever they thought was best.

Were they just going to block off each level until they got to the top? That wouldn't work. They would just be trapped on the roof. It was then that she voiced out."Guys, so what's the plan exactly, we can't just keep blocking off one level at a time, at this rate, we'll be left with just the roof, with no way out!"

Then she heard a yell from upstairs that hundreds more were on the way to enter the building. Whatever they were planning to do, they had better do it quick. Clambering to a window on the side, she was treated to a view of what awaited them inside. Packs and packs of infected crowded round the apartment entrance, like fans of a certain boy band rushing out to meet them. She shivered as that image sent a chill down her spine. It was then that she heard the voice of an Asian girl asking the group if anyone was bitten. "I'm fine!" Lucy shouted.

She had heard that a infected dog had almost killed the firefighter earlier on, and there could be several more like it hiding away in many of the apartment units. She didn't even want to think about that right now, as it absolutely positively chilled her to the bone. Now, they had to watch their back as well? That was not good, not good at all.

She then heard the reasoning of the tall blonde guy as he reasoned with the military looking guy about not leaving the apartment premises. She spoke up once more. "These barricades, I'm not sure they are going to hold up for long. How long more can we go before we reach the top? These apartment isn't very high, that is just a temporary solution!" She gulped. Thinking of what awaited them down below. She hoped someone had a better plan and fast.

[Rare]

After sitting on the couch for a couple minutes, Aadan got up and walked to the bathroom as he tried to wash his face. When he turned the faucet, no water was coming out of the sink. That meant that the power and the water must be out. He sighed as he looked at the mirror and saw the blood on his face. It looks like that he has to keep the blood on his face for now until he founds some water to wash his face with. The faucet was back to it's original spot as Aadan left the bathroom to go back out to the second story. Then, as he was going back to the group, he heard that there were hundreds of zombies outside the apartments.

He couldn't believe it as he ran towards his room and opened the blinds. And the guy was right, he saw that the street was full of infected people. God, he saw some of them as he ran passed them in the downtown area. He backed away from the window as he closed the blinds once more and ran to get his backpack. The dark red backpack was on top of his bed as he grabbed it and opened it. He saw some paper and pencils already in his backpack from school, but he didn't care as he raced to the kitchen to get some things. He grabbed some bottled waters and dropped them on the bed as he raced back and grabbed some packs of noodle soup.

After that, he put those things in his backpack and then opened his closet and started to look around for other things. He grabbed his jacket and put it on his bed and then found a flashlight and put that on the bed as well. Then, he checked the flashlight to make such that it worked. Aadan didn't have time to be off task as he heard an argument going on outside of his room. Finally, he opened one of his nightstands and found some bullets for his pistol and a pocket knife.

He threw all of those things into his backpack, but kept the pocket knife in his pocket. And then, he closed it as he was now carrying it on his shoulder. He checked to make such that his keys were on and they were as he felt the coolness of the keys. After that, he exited out of his room and grabbed this pistol off of the ground near the dead lady and the dog.

Aadan then turned to the group and said to them, "One way or another, we need to stop fighting and think out a plan of how we all are going to make it." He walked towards the Asian girl and stool by her as he saw the barricade and shook his head in shame. Then, he looked back to the group and kept going, "The barricade isn't going to hold for long, so I agree that we need to get out of this apartment rather than keep on going up. Plus, the cops were being loud and dumb. Which caused all of this shit to happen and for me to be almost bitten by that lady. But if we play our cards right, we could leave this place without causing those things to follow."

Aadan, waiting for a response, checked how many bullets he has left in his pistol.

[Dungeon Blaster]

Chapter Two

Parting the Sea

"Uhhh, Viper Nest, this is Viper Actual, come in, over."

"*STATIC*, Viper Actual, this is Viper Nest, what's your status, over?"

"Uhh, we've got uhh, a large uhh, crowd of zulu whiskeys, bearing grid reference 593-921, over."

"Acknowledged Viper Actual, what's their bearing? Over."

"Uhh, it looks like, uhh, they're crowding around a uhh, tower block or something. Possible lima sierras, over."

"Understood Viper Actual, but please confirm the lima sierras, over."

"Affirmative Viper Nest, uhh, going in for uhh, closer look. Switching to infra-red, uhhh, hold the line Viper Nest, Viper Actual out."

The sleek, insect-like silhouette of the Bell AH-1Z, operating out of nearby Scott Airfoce Base, descended from relative obscurity. Its twin engines thumped the airwaves, sending powerful torrents of man-made wind across the gathering horde of the dead. Captain Mike Ryans engaged his infra-red display, and felt a familiar chill ascend his spine. It was an odd thing, seeing so many people with his night vision scope, but virtually no heat signals when he applied infra-red. Certainly, it wasn't something the young career pilot was going to get used to anytime soon.

As always, it was the same story. They were all dead. Well, not dead, because they were walking around- but not alive either. No heat source, no vitals, nothing. None of this made damn sense to Ryans. But then, with his AH-1Z purring seductively in his ear, not a lot about any of this so called plague needed to make any sense... not with a full payload to throw its way, in any case.

He turned his attention away from the crowd, even as Captain Brian Crow jerked left and right nervously in the gunner's seat, and scanned the apartment building.

"Settle down there, Crow, we're just sight seeing," Mike said with his customary 'I don't give a damn about anything' cheer.

Captain Crow started muttering, "This is bull shit, there's a mob of them right below us, we could really fuck these thin-"

"Crow, shut the fuck up," Mike said stiffly, as he glimpsed heat signatures flashing by the building's windows, running vertical to where he assumed the stairs would be. "Hold on a second, would ya? You'll get your chance to shoot."

"Uhh, Viper Nest, this is Viper Actual, you still there? Over."

"Affirmtive Viper Actual, what's the sit-rep? Over."

"That's a green light on the, uhh, lima seirras, over."

"Understood Viper Actual, what's your count? Over."

"Uhhh, hard to say, uhhh, maybe a five-six? I don't, uhh, I don't know. Definitely alive, though, over."

"Viper Actual, how many zulu whiskeys, over?"

"Uhhh, Viper Nest I'm counting about two centuries, uhhhhh, maybe a little more, maybe a little less, over."

"Understood Viper Actual, you have the green light to engage, over."

"FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCK YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Viper Actual, this is Viper Nest, please repeat your last call, over."

Mike grabbed a pen from his chest pouch, and lobbed it at the back of Crow's flight helmet. "Shut the fuck up, Crow. There's a war going on, if you haven't noticed. That childish shit wont get us anywhere. Stay off the airwaves."

Crow ignored him, as he started dialling in his firing solutions. "Yeah, yeah. Firing in three."

***

The street outside the Three Towers Apartment Complex's lobby disappeared under a bright orange glow, immediately before the shock wave from a AGM-114 Hellfire missile tore into the building, shattering glass and rupturing window frames. The Stage Ones and Twos that were unfortunate enough not to be inside, were thrown thirty feet into the air, whilst those nearer the explosion's epicentre were outright vaporised. Those further out however, were merely knocked down, and were soon back on their feet to resume their pursuit, though they were entirely tolerant of the helicopter's presence.

The horde started to regain shape, the hole blown through its centre forgotten within minutes. There were then several screeching noises, akin to the sound of fireworks, before the street was once again consumed in flame. The AH-1Z had unleashed both its rocket pods, blanket bombing the thickest part of the horde.

When the dead started to regroup once more, the front of the AH-IZ spewed forth further destruction with its mounted 20 mm M197 3-barreled Gatling cannon. The result was devastating, as Captain Crow raked the area from left to right, and back again, decapitating anything that moved. When the bird's ammo ran dry, it withdrew as promptly as it had arrived, leaving a smouldering, flaming wreck where a street once stood.

The horde had been utterly obliterated, leaving only a few stragglers outside to crawl around on bloodied stumps. Those who had already made it into the lobby however, were far from harm's way, and they continued their mindless pursuit of those who dwelled on the upper levels.

[IceSolstice]

((Collab post. Sorry for the long post. ^^;))

[Sylvia and Austin]

Part 1

2 Hours Ago, Three Towers Apartment Complex, Fifth Floor, Unit 507

“I’ve been watching all the videos online showing these...zombie things. It’s...gruesome,” Sylvia winces at the memory before continuing, “It seems like they’re pretty clumsy and attack people by biting or grabbing a hold of people. Do you think… you can handle that?”

“Of course. As long as I don’t get surrounded I should be fine.” Austin says confidently.

“I’m... scared. What will happen to us? Are we going to die?” Sylvia asks shakily.
We’re going to die we’re going to die we’re going to--

“No, we aren’t going to die. We’re smart, healthy, and have things we can use to survive.” Austin says calmly.

“We have those bins filled with water right? Just in case the power goes out due to some freak accident? And all that non-perishable food that I blew my debit card on ever since we even heard about this?” she looks at Austin with wide eyes.
Somehow I don’t really believe we’ll survive. We’re pretty powerless. It’s not like we could wave a hand and all the zombies would be magically gone. And they’re just going to keep coming and something will give and it’s certainly not those zombies.

“And all the portable batteries that we’ve fully charged, we’ll be fine.” Austin says reassuringly.

“Do you think I should go around buying food off of people? Or bartering? I don’t think they’ll part with it as easily anymore now that well, those things are around. Of course, there might be one or two that would be willing to part with it if they think this isn’t going to last,” Sylvia remarks.

“Trying to buy more food could be a good idea. But if we ever need to leave the building, we won’t be able to carry it all with us.” Austin points out.

“Why did this happen? Because of China’s selfishness of wanting to preserve its reputation and secrets, this has spread too far and too wide! And we all know how devastating viruses are now with easy travel and densely populated areas,” Sylvia wails. Stupid society.

Still leaning against the window, Austin turns to placate his friend. “Shh, it’ll be okay. As long as I’m here, you won’t have to worry about anything.

“Hold me?” I want to believe that. I really, really want to believe that.

Austin hugs Sylvia.
She closes her eyes and falls asleep, exhausted. Nightmares had been plaguing Sylvia’s dreams lately and preventing her from getting a good night’s rest.

Part 2

Austin leans his head back on the glass, looking out the window down at the street. A crowd of figures, almost certainly zombies, had gathered outside the apartment. If he looked closely, some figures appeared to be moving much faster than the others. Some of them... can run? This could be harder to deal with than I thought.

He leaves the window, walking back the the dining table where he was busy crafting protection for himself. Heavy duty electrical cable, the kind one would use to power a TV at an event, was being meticulously cut into differing lengths, ranging from over a foot to eight inches. He cut a few and laid them side by side. “This should work.” He says with satisfaction. He puts on the jacket he was going to improve and starts laying the electrical cable onto his left arm.

Austin had prodded her awake earlier, so now Sylvia was working on it as well, modifying her own jacket. She glanced over at Austin’s progress, “Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Here, can you help me with mine first? I don’t have the hands to do it on my own.” Austin asks.

“Sure,” Sylvia goes over and helps attach the cable on his jacket, “Do you think this’ll slow me down a lot? Because one of my strengths is dodging with my speed.”

“It might be too heavy for you yeah. This might be for me only then.”

“Bleh,” Sylvia removed the modifications she made on hers.

“I told you that you shoulda gotten stronger.” Austin teases.

“Urghhhhhh. No one really expects to have a zombie-virus-apocalypse-thing pop out of nowhere. Well, from China technically. Because everything is made in China and apparently this virus isn’t an exception.”

“Best to be prepared, right? Anyways, lets finish this as fast as possible, we might not have that much time.” Austin inspects his left arm. Sturdy loops of electrical cable was wrapped all the way down his arm and secured with duct tape. As the cable was side-by-side but cut into individual lengths, they didn’t constrict his movement.

“Do you think we should glue it down as well?” Austin asks.

“With what glue? I doubt Elmer’s glue would help you, unless you wanted glue sticks?” Sylvia looks at Austin with a side glance.

“Don’t you have like a glue gun or any stronger glue? “

“Well… I believe I have a small glue gun from the time I had to make a project for...something,” Sylvia mutters.

“Great! A thin line under each loop would secure it much better.”

“Alright, while I go hunt the elusive glue gun down, can you think of modifications I could do that wouldn’t slow me down too much?” Sylvia asks as she searches around the apartment.

“Yeah sure. Oh! From this one novel I read, they used carpet coats. They taped sections of carpet around their arms and legs to stop zombies from biting through.”

“How effective is that in real life though?” Sylvia finds the glue gun and hands it over to Austin.

“Heck if I know. At least we have carpet?”

“What about cardboard then?”

“They might be able to bite through that though.”

“What if I weave it then? Like take long cardboard strips and weave them over and under one another?”

“I have no clue.”

“The problem is I don’t have enough information on them, such as how hard they can bite, what senses they’re using to perceive us, etc.”

“We should at least be able to stop a full-strength human bite. I mean, this is protection against other people too, like baseball bats and knives and stuff.”

“Ha. If I have to fight someone directly, I’m screwed.”

“Well then you can run away without dying on the first hit.”

“One of my problems with carpet is that it’ll absorb all the blood. All of it. Like, why?”

“Turn it inside out then? Besides, it should be covered with duct tape anyways. No blood would get in.”

Sylvia sighs and stares balefully at the carpet, “How are we going to get this stuff anyhow? Knife a section of it out?”

“...I don’t see how else.” Austin gives a blank look to Sylvia.

“...I’ll just help you finish yours first so you can help me get this carpet stuff. I don’t have the strength to get it out most likely.”

“Alright.”

Austin and Sylvia continue working on modifying the jacket, glueing and taping down electrical cable all the way up his arm to the top of his shoulder. Longer cables went from his back over the shoulder and to the middle of his chest. Weaved into the cables along his chest and back were horizontal loops about his midsection, while around his neck went more loops, attached to the jacket’s high collar. This is going to be really hard to take off...But hey staying alive is more important than staying clean, and I don’t sweat that much anyways.

Austin’s jeans underwent a similar treatment. As the knees needed full range of motion, he had to make do with extra strips of duct tape instead. Once done, he put on his hiking boots, ensuring that his pant leg overlapped his boots so no space was exposed even when crouching. He put on his gloves and attached them to the sleeves with a strip of duct tape as well. All the cables and tape made him feel weighed down, but it was a comforting feeling. He felt protected.

Black electrical cable covered in dull grey duct tape covered every inch of the jacket’s back, arms, chest, and neck. The only exposed areas were the armpits and the crook of the elbow. Exposed patches of cable were left on purpose to allow for a pseudo clip system, where Austin had slid two small flashlights, his trench knife, and two other kitchen knives. A flashlight and a knife was on each side of his thighs, and reversed by his boots, on the inside of his legs. On his chest was the trench knife, within easy reach.

“How do I look? Any gaps?” Austin asked, bouncing lightly. This was some heavy stuff. He liked the added weight he felt when he punched the air a few times experimentally.

“Not that I can see, no.”

“Great. Now for your armor.” Austin smiled.

“I was thinking, it probably would be a very bad idea to wrap carpet entirely around my arms. My arm strength would give out quickly. So how about making arm guards instead using carpet, and then an added layer of woven cardboard?” Sylvia asks.

“I’m not sure the cardboard would do anything, but sure. Just around the forearms right?”

“The outside part of my forearms and upper arms.”

“What about your legs?

“My legs are much stronger, so they could handle it without a huge decrease in speed,” Sylvia replies, “But the lighter the better when it comes to me.”

“Okay. Let’s get to work then.” Austin grabs a boxcutter and carves out a large square of the carpet. “I’m sorry about your carpet...”

“It’s fine. You can always replace carpet but you can’t replace lives. I’ll go grab some sturdy cardboard and begin working on that,” Sylvia comments.

Sylvia obtains some cardboard and starts meticulously cutting them into strips. Placing a column of strips on the table, she starts threading the other cardboard strips under and over while making sure her handiwork was as tight as possible.
Austin cuts the carpet to length and closes it around Sylvia’s legs, cuts it a bit more, the wraps it snug with duct tape. He does the same with the other leg , then both of her forearms.

“Did you want this for your torso too?”

“Whatever you think is best. My torso can handle the weight too,” Sylvia says while adding duct tape to the cardboard construct to make sure it didn’t fall apart.

“Maybe just your shoulders and neck, they are the easiest to bite besides your arms and legs.”

“You said that this was also protection against other people, right?”

“Yeah, but nothing will stop a bullet, and carpet won’t stop a knife either way. Maybe stop a knife slash, but you could just dodge it.

“Alright, true.”

Using thinner strips, Austin tapes carpet along Sylvia's neck and shoulders, layering them so that it didn't impede movement. Just by looking at the silhouette, one could mistake it for real armor.

While Austin was doing that, Sylvia securely attaches the cardboard to the carpet on her forearms and upper arms with a combination of hot glue and duct tape. Tapping the makeshift arm guard, Sylvia states, “Feels sturdy.”
She moves her arm around, “And not too heavy.”

“Perfect! Hopefully we’ll never have to see if it works.”

Sylvia shudders at the prospect, “I’m going to rest a bit more, I’m tired. Sit near me? I’ve always been bad at falling asleep but this is an all-time low.”
She takes off her jacket and lays on the bed.

“Of course.” Austin sits on Sylvia’s bed, resting her head on his lap.

Her muscles relax and she soon falls asleep.

Austin watches over her sleeping form fondly.

Part 3

Present Time, Three Towers Apartment Complex, Fifth Floor, Unit 507

Where is that helicopter...” Austin mutters, peering out the window, trying to angle his head to get a glimpse. He’d been craning his head to get a better look at it ever since he heard the unmistakable whirring. If that’s a rescue or supply helicopter, we can’t afford to miss that.

A bright light whizzes past his field of view, shortly followed by a massive shockwave that Austin could feel shaking the entire building. Austin presses his forehead up against the glass the moment the shaking ended. Did the helicopter just drop that bomb-missile-whatever the fuck?!

“Fudge!! What was that?!” Sylvia exclaims while jumping at the noise.

Screeching noises, like a firework in flight, followed shortly after. This time, Austin was able to follow the rockets with his eyes, watching as the horde of bodies on the street were torn apart by the continuous explosions. A muted buzzing sound accompanied the torrent of bullets the cleaned up the remnants of the horde.

“Auuugh,” Sylvia says, covering her ears. Is the world ending or something?

“HAHAHA YESS!!!” Austin exclaims as he looks down at what was left of the street. “Sylvia, a military helicopter just destroyed everything down there!! We should go see if the lobby is secure now.”

[ArenaSnow]

Wright had helped a little bit with moving furnature to blockade the stairwell, and went into a couple rooms cautiously as the others talked.

As he tried one door, he heard some noises coming from the inside. Occupied, then...

He gave it a knock. "This is city police! Please open the door!" he yelled. Completely true, that.

He heard some footsteps that stopped a couple seconds later.

"Come on, open the door!"

No response.

He tried it and found it unlocked. Swinging it in, he found...

The gaping maw of a middle aged man groaning with the most bitter stench coming outwards.

"SON OF A-" He brought up his crowbar, smacking the zombie in the jaw with a sickening crack of crowbar meeting bone, and slammed the door.

"We got one in here!" he yelled down the hall.

[Mattie_]

[Austin and Sylvia]

The power gives out, courtesy of the missiles, rockets, or maybe the minigun.

Sylvia squeaks and fumbles around for Austin. Nonononononono.

“Shhhhhh calm down!!” Austin grabs Sylvia.

Sylvia flinches, but then realizes it is Austin and calms down. Austin takes out a flashlight and turns it on, then goes to find the headlamps he had in his backpack. He puts one on and switches it on. He hands his flashlight to Sylvia.

“Are you sure we should risk going to the lobby now?” Sylvia asks, taking the flashlight shakily.

“If zombies are pouring up the stairs, it’d be much better to stop them on a lower floor than wait for them to come up here. You ready to leave?” Austin asks.

“Yeah...Alright then,” Sylvia reluctantly puts on her jacket and satchel, “I’m ready now. I’m going to get the staff really quick though.”

“Sure.” Austin checks over his gear. From his protective jacket, to his protected jeans, his boots, and the equipment strapped onto himself, he was as ready as he could get to fight for his life. Walking to the closet, he grabs their hammer and hangs that on his jacket as well. This could crack a skull or two, and maybe smash open doors as well.

“Do you think blunt force or a sharp edge would be more effective?” Sylvia questions.

“Blunt force would be best to defend yourself and push a zombie back, but a staff would be kind of hard to swing in these close quarters. And a killing blow would take a lot of strength. But a knife would take some strength to kill with too, and you’d have to get close to use it.

“Or… we can compromise by sticking a knife on one of the ends of this staff,” Sylvia notes.

“That would work. As long as we can attach it securely. Do you wanna tape it, glue it, tie it down?”

“All of the above. It wouldn’t do if it came off during the middle of a fight, you know?”

“Haha true. It could get really thick though. The best would be if we could separate the handle from the blade and carve a slot for the blade to fit.”

“How would we carve a neat slot in the wood?” Sylvia flails.

“Sigh. We have knives. We can just carve the end until it’s mostly flat. We could also sharpen one end and just use the wood as a point. But that’s not as good as an actual knife...” Austin sighs and starts carving down one end of the staff, using a cleaver to slice slivers of wood off the end. The tip naturally starts forming a slanted point, so Austin starts carving down the other end. Of course, this isn’t how you’re supposed to carve things.

“This isn’t working... you’re going to have to settle for a pointy stick.” Austin remarks. Making a wooden spear was considerably easier. Although rough, it was literally just a pointy stick, and he doubted Sylvia would be killing much stuff anyways.

“That’s fine. At least this way I can stab and whack things.”

“Try not to break the tip. It’s not exactly sturdy.” Austin advises, looking at his own craftsmanship dubiously.

“Alright.”

“Well, let’s go. Before we leave, we should hide our valuables.”

After hiding their non-perishables and water, they were ready to leave. Austin draws his trench knife and holds it in a back-handed grip. While he’d never stabbed anyone before, he’d borrowed an army knife wielding manual from a friend and watched enough movies to know how to use a knife.

A peek out into the hallways revealed... absolutely nothing. No one was outside, and he couldn’t hear anything that might be cause for alarm. “Should be safe” Austin whispers, beckoning for Sylvia to follow. He pockets his own set of keys.

“Best to tread lightly, I don’t want anything to know we’re here, human or not human,” Sylvia whispers, “I’ll be on the lookout for anything, sounds included.

Austin nods and advances softly down the hallway in a sort of boxing stance, his left arm held protectively in front of his right, which wielded the trench knife. The darkness was unsettling, but he figured it would inconvenience everyone else as much as him. The pair advance down the hallway to the stairs without incident. They hear a panicked clamour as they descend the stairs.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea...” Austin wasn’t feeling as confident without the power on.

“Now you tell me. But we should see if there are others, that way we’d be safer instead of waiting for the zombies to overrun the entire building. Although I’d be up for huddling in the apartment for the next 10 years, except we probably wouldn’t survive that long.”

“If there’s too many of them down there, we can always sprint back up the stairs I guess...”

“We could, but that’s assuming zombies aren’t going to surround us from behind. We don’t know everyone who lives here, there could be people infected with the virus and just holing up in their room, quarantined and stuff.”

“Then I’ll just... kill them I guess.” Killing the enemy was a solution to every emergency.

“We have several options from here: 1) Go try to find others and team up with them, even though I don’t trust them anyways. 2) Hole up in the apartment until morning so we can actually see, but risk having a zombie horde right outside of our door. 3) Investigate the lobby, which would give us the most information and the chance to set up barricades. But of course, this has a high chance of us encountering zombies, and the highest risk in general. 4) Go around, knocking on other people’s doors to gather supplies, maybe team up with them, and obtain information. Although a surprise zombie may pop out of one of the rooms. 5) Stand out here like idiots until a zombie eats us,” Sylvia lists off while vigilantly watching the surroundings.

“Alright yeah true. The lobby is needlessly risky, and it’s just too dark right now. We should go door to door on this floor gathering supplies, clearing the floor of zombies, and build a barricade to prevent anything from coming up. And then do the same with the floors above us.” Austin agrees. They go back up to their floor and start on the first door to their right. Wary of any unexpected attacks, Austin tries the door handle slowly.

Locked.

Austin knocks firmly, ears straining to listen for footsteps, groans, any telltale signs of living or dead occupants. He grips his knife firmly, leaning up against the wall adjacent to the doorframe. There was a chance a crazy guy was inside, prepared to shoot the moment he heard anything.
Sylvia sidles besides Austin and keeps watching and listening for anything that might indicate danger. The extreme paranoia and fear of zombies was almost making her dizzy. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Relax. You need to stay sharp.

((GM, if the door is metal, they’ll stand right behind it ready to do the stabby, since no need to fear someone shooting through a metal door?))

[Yojimbo]

"I didn't mean to use the streets as a way out, almost everyone would end up dead." Nicholas quickly replied to the photographer, slightly annoyed at the thought of using the streets. "We need to reinforce these barricades-" he spoke, pointing with a free hand towards the makeshift barricade he was working on. -"Then we can all settle down, clear the rooms of threats "quietly," and finally come up with an exit strategy."

Grayeson's grasp of his rifle's grip became tighter as he leaned up against a nearby wall, his eyes turning down the stairs. The shrieking and howls from the creatures below was starting to irritate him. The last thing he needed was to be stuck in a inescapable situation with people that could possibly slow him down. There were some that seemed like intelligent folk, but whether or not they could do what was necessary for survival is another matter. He knew what needed to be done in order to survive in this "dream" of his, but whether the others in this group would go along with it is hard to say as well. In the back of his mind, their situation reminded him of the time he and his fire team were cut off from their squad. Having to barricade themselves in a run-down building against insurgent attacks, he even then, didn't have a clue on how to get out. All he could do was command his Marines to keep fighting and eventually they'd make it through. But these people weren't Marines or soldiers, they don't know how to keep a cool head under the pressure of outside forces.

There were mentions of these barricades not lasting long and how long till reaching the roof. Someone else saying the "cops" were all being loud and not thinking straight, but the individual as made the notion to leave silently. Nicholas agreed with both of them, there was too much commotion and we didn't have much else to go to besides higher. Sure the group could barricade the stairs the best they could, but eventually something nastier would go through that like it was nothing. If he remembered anything about zombie lore, it was that something bigger and badder was always lurking around the corner. This thought was surprisingly not at all shocking, but rather indifferent about the thought of that actually occurring. If it did, the entire group and himself wouldn't last very long against it anyways. And that's when the ground started rumbling and the windows rattling, followed by the sound of an explosion which caused the windows to shatter. Lowering himself to a knee as glass spilled all over him, he immediately took a stand and peered out the window that exploded near him. Above the buildings, he saw the familiar shape of an attack helicopter which started spinning up its rotary cannon.

"Is that a Cobra...?" Grayeson wondered to himself, listening and feeling the 20mm cannon rip through the streets.

When the bird had emptied its payload, it took off as suddenly as it had appeared. Down below, the carnage it had wreaked was awe-inspiring to anyone that was once military. Where that had been a horde of walking corpses, there were few still left standing... well, perhaps "moving at all" would be a better explanation.

"You wanted your streets escape plan... well, my friends in the attack bird just opened the hole up."

[Katakon]

Drew was breathing heavily, and quickly as if was having a panic attack. He stayed on his landing on the stairwell, while everybody was arguing and thinking up plans of escape, he was holding tightly onto his crowbar and had his back against wall, he tried to even his breathing but it went faster and sporadically as he thought more and more of how they will all die by being ripped limb from limb and being eaten alive.

But his nerves were wrecked even more once he heard loud explosion coming from outside the apartment, as the apartment shook from the explosion Drew let go of his crowbar which fell down the stairs making a echoey bang with each step it fell on, Drew covered his ears with his hands and he closed his eyes and he sat down on the ground.

"Weregoingtodieweregoingtodieweregoingtodie" Drew muttered to himself in utter terror at all this insanity that happen all around him and this apartment. Drew was bordering on tears at this point, and was just a mess of anxiety and fear, as his breathing was even worse off than before.

[Dungeon Blaster]

Chapter Three

Thermopylae

Everyone

Riled by the stimulus provided to them by the attack helicopter, the Stage Ones in the lobby area threw themselves into a frenzy. They moaned and whined, tearing at and shoving the barricade with the terrible strength of those who feel no pain. The benches - a key structural point of the barricade - began creaking, their wooden panels snapping against the weight of the statue, and their iron frames bending inwardly. With a final orchestra of unholy sounds, emitting from their putrid throats, the infected pushed through the benches. Many of them fell over the former barricade, whilst others skirted around their bumbling kinsmen. In any case, they ascended the stairs with the pace of drunks, searching desperately for a glass of water to heal their hangovers.

Though the infected had been dealt a heavy blow outside, there were still anywhere between twenty and thirty crammed into that lobby. The stairs were now the only real issue they had to overcome. In any urban warfare environment, a good commander will always highlight the defensive importance of stairs. They could be booby-trapped, for one, or destroyed even, to prevent attackers from using them effectively. Furthermore, an attacker was confined and constricted, denying them any numerical superiority they may have had.

If the healthy living could develop some kind of coherent, on the spot battle plan, then maybe- maybe they could hold the horde at bay, killing them one by one until they were all taken care of. Or, they could run, flee to their respective rooms, and hope beyond all hope that the infected wouldn't find a way inside them.

[Austin and Sylvia]

John Marcel was a physically big man, but lacked in substance when it came to character. He was a weak fool, intelligent, but lacking in ambition. At the age of 36, he'd never seen a naked woman, let alone felt one's touch. For all of his life, he'd leached off of his mother, who had dominated him the moment his father left them when he was just three years of age.

She hadn't been home in four days, owing to the crisis. Dead, alive? It didn't matter to John. The simple fact was, she wasn't there to tell him everything was okay, to cook him his favourite meal and put him to bed at the ripe hour of 8:30pm.

John was cracking, the earthquake of him having sudden responsibility for himself running a deep ravine through his mind. Austin and Sylvia would have heard him crying, if they'd of knocked the day before. Now though, John didn't have many more tears to give. He had desensitised himself to his situation, no, he had resigned himself to his situation. Without his mother's loving guidance, he was going to die.

Until the attack helicopter broke him from his reverie. There was something about what he saw, pulling back the curtains from his window, about the mass destruction. There was something awesome, holy... sensual? About seeing so many bodies obliterated and dismembered by a destructive force beyond their comprehension.

Suddenly, John had fancied himself to be a "destructive force". He had snuck into his mom's room - a forbidden act in a life he was quickly forgetting - and dug out her 38. from a shoe box, where Mrs Marcel had kept some of her ex-husbands things. John had seen it once, when he was eight years old and had stumbled upon her doing a bit of spring cleaning. He'd gotten the belt, for his efforts.

John knew how to use guns. He hadn't used one of course, but Youtube was an underestimated tool in today's world. Theoretically, he was an expert in this particular weapon, having obsessed over it for more than a decade. He cracked it open, and found the chamber fully loaded - six shots, six shots of destruction.

And then there was knocking at the door.

I am Death, destroyer of worlds.

"It's open," John said in his squeaky voice.

He stood to full hight, all 250 pounds of flab coming with him. He wore a green shirt, the words "I <3 MOM" written across it in large white New Roman font. He didn't wear trousers, just his boxers - a plus of his mother's absence. Quickly, he looked for somewhere he could remain unseen for his guests.

I am Death, destroyer of worlds.

He spied his mother's old couch, a thing from the 1950's, with that depressing post-war floral pattern. John was a big man, but the couch was just about big enough for him to get behind.

"I said it's open," he called again, louder, forcing gristle into his effeminate voice. He brushed back some of his long, greasy ginger hair from his eyes so that it didn't get in the way of him. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."

I am Death, destroyer of worlds.

Wright

Andrew Zeller was a shadow of his former self, a nightmarish ghoul with a foggy brain. He no longer knew logic, nor emotion or passion. He knew only hunger, and Andrew was very hungry.

His jaw hung lopsidedly from his head, courtesy of the healthy's attempt on his undead life. He didn't feel what would have been insanity-inducing pain though, he only felt his hunger increase. There was food on the other side of the door, and Andrew very much wanted to get at it. At first he threw himself against the wooden frame, but was frustrated by the impossible obstacle that it presented.

So with a feral growl, he reached deep into the disjointed memories of his once living mind, and plucked forth an image of the door's handle. He saw how it opened, and then he tried to repeat the task. However, with little sight to avail him, and with limbs that were still only partially responsive, his endeavour was a tough one.

Eventually though, he unlocked the handle, and engaged the latch.

Now to open the door!

Andrew started diving through his clouded memories again, his virus-addled flesh striving to discover the truth behind this mysterious contraption.

[Horrid]

Madison Ripley

---

The cacophonous racket from outside the lobby shook the window closest to Madison, causing her to jump and shout as her ears began to ring from the explosions. Screams of terror and fear rung out as the rest of the building rocked in the shockwaves. Her father had always ranted on about how city life was all cramped spaces and scared people, and now more than ever she was beginning to take those words to heart completely. These hallways were not meant to support mass invasions like this. They were not meant to be crowded like sardines waiting to be canned. The barricade's splintering and snapping within the confines of the space made her teeth itch.

Her heart almost jumped into her throat as she recalled what a pivotal role the closeness of space played in many of her crisis operations back on the job. She was wringing the axe in her hands over and over again, biting her lip as she bounded back over to her apartment door. She stamped her feet, shaking off what blood she could, before unlocking the door once more and barreling in past the furniture amassed at the entrance. Her eyes darted, her body twitched and her hands jittered, her mind turned itself inside out then back in again trying to search for a solution to the problem, anything just to buy time.

A few moments later, she almost collided with her door frame, breathless and frantic. She spoke in a voice between a panicked scream and a grim command, trying to communicate her plan to whosoever was nearby.

"Gather all the grease, oils, soaps and any other lubricants you can find. Anything slippery. All of them."

With that she skittered back in and began to literally throw aforementioned containers out onto the landing. Cooking oil, handsoap, shampoo, conditioner. Even a can of WD-40. It might not have been a concrete plan. But it was a plan. Crazy, maybe. But she didn't seem all put together in the first place.

[IceSolstice]

[Sylvia and Austin]

“It’s open,” a squeaky voice says from the inside.
That...doesn’t sound right. Not at all. It’s not...fear. Sylvia thinks, alarmed.

“I said it’s open. Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you,” the voice resounds again from the inside, louder.
Oh snap. Nope nope nope nope.

Sylvia watches Austin’s reaction and quickly grabs his hand away from opening the door.
She whispers furiously, “I don’t trust him. And don’t tell me I’m being paranoid. Let’s go back to our room so he can’t overhear us and so we’re not staying outside longer than necessary. Quietly.”

“Wh-what? Okay...?” Austin just nods and follows her. As annoying as it could be, she was usually right.

Once they were safely back in their own apartment Sylvia explains frantically, “When he first said it was open, something was wrong. I’ve seen and heard who lives there before, and he does not sound like that normally. These aren’t normal circumstances sure, but he almost sounded... broken. And the whole ‘Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you’ was a line that was completely unnecessary. Sounded exactly like a doctor saying ‘Oh it won’t hurt just a bit’ when in reality, it will hurt a heck ton. Also, why would anyone leave their door open when a freaking zombie apocalypse is outside their door?? What if I was a zombie? And the timing between his two responses. He repeated ‘It’s open’, as if overly eager for us to come in. Why did he want us to open the door? It would’ve been far safer if he checked personally.”

Austin nods, listening.

Sylvia pauses before continuing, “So considering that 1) the voice sounded distant 2) ‘Oh I won’t hurt you’ is a lie 3) leaving the door open under these circumstances 4) wanting us to open the door 5) eager for us to get inside… the most likely conclusion is that he’s going to attempt to hurt or kill us the second we walk in. And with a long range weapon too.”

“It makes sense. I guess I would have realized it too if I really thought about it longer... Well, what do we do about that?” Austin asks.

“I mean, do you still want to go inside?” Sylvia questions.

“You’re saying he might have a gun, right?”

“It’s possible he has a gun. Could be something like a bow as well,” Sylvia states.

“True. Well it’s too dangerous to go in through the door unless he comes out. Maybe, we could go in through the window?”

“Ha. No. Maybe you could but I’m not going through any window. We could also… wait. As in, do something else, and then come back. That way we have the advantage of surprise and maybe he’d give up on us by then. Maybe. But I personally wouldn’t recommend trying to overwhelm that guy. He is clearly expecting a human.”

“Who even lives there? I’ve only seen some old lady leaving or entering before.” Austin says.

“Her son. Large man.”

“She has a son??”

“Well, would I lie about that?”

“Ugh. (no). If he wants to harm us though, we should deal with him now. If we wait, it just means he could come out later and attack us then.

“We could prevent him from getting outside. That would also protect him from zombies too.”

“I don’t care about protecting him.

“You’d care once he turns into a zombie though.”

“I’d rather he was a zombie. Zombies can’t spear me through with an arrow.” Austin grumbles.

Sylvia sighs, “Well in any case, we should prevent him from going outside. I don’t want someone that wants to hurt others outside and loose.”

“All the more reason to kill him now. Just listen. We knock, or rather, you knock and say the door is stuck. He thinks a weak girl is outside. Even if he does try to attack, we can deal with him once he’s near. I could push the door and knock him over, or just pull out. The only chance he has is if he opens the door, throws it back, then steps away to shoot us. If he has a bow or crossbow, he won't even be able to aim it without both hands.”

“No. Why do you want a gun so badly? We’re unnecessarily risking ourselves. We could just make it so he can’t leave and then he’d eventually starve to death or die from dehydration. Then you could get your long ranged weapon.”

“He would last too long, and there’s a chance he could still get out. Unless you’re confident you can somehow barricade an inward opening door from opening.” -_-

“I don’t want to deal with him. We already have zombies theoretically out there, we shouldn’t waste our time with this,” Sylvia says, shaking.

“Now that I think there might be a guy ready to unload a clip into my back, I’m definitely not going downstairs. Think about it, we go down, then the guy follows us down. We’ll be trapped between zombies and a mad gunman.”

“A maybe-gunman. I don’t know what weapon he has on him. He could’ve planted bombs or something so that the second we step in, we’re toast,” Sylvia flails her arms.

“Urgh then we do it the complicated way. We convince a harmless but useless innocent person to enter in front of us, set off whatever bullets, bombs, and dynamite he has waiting, then clean up the ashes. No risk to us. Sound acceptable?” Austin growls.

“Why would we do that? That’s mean. And what if he has more ammo and stuff? We’d be next. We’re risking too much for the possibility of a gun.”

“Going downstairs is risking too much for the possibility of getting shot in the back of the head. And too bad. They’d just be wasting food anyways.”

“It’s not nice to put someone into a death trap,” Sylvia comments.

[TimeToRP]

"What, where am I?"

Detective Norman looked around, with his bloody eyes, sighing in distress. "What the?" Detective looked around in the debris. It was a wreckage, muttering to himself. Norman put on his ARI Glasses, perhaps he could get evidence from the wreckage he just found. He found a sign of gore, life butchered. Who would of done such a thing? Norman crouched down to the blood, touching a sample of the blood he found. "Who would do such a thing." Norman sighed to himself. Norman got up, walking. Taking off his ARI Glasses, he put them in his tuxedo pocket. Suddenly, blood came dripping down his eyes and nose. He had triptocane inside of his pockets, taking one he calmed himself with some of the tripto. He decided to put on his ARI Glasses again to see what else he could find. Detective Norman slipped on his glove, he looked at a small office home-shaped like. He wondered if he could find anything, he kicked opened the door, stepping his first step in. It was a lifeless, small grave office. Just like the one he had when he was first hired to be in detective force, Norman sighed. Norman shut the door, finding a chair at the desk, Norman locked the door before sitting down. Norman figured that someone was here before him, he felt a small shake on his shoe. Norman took off his ARI Glasses and his glove on his hand, looking below his chair, he kicked the body off him. In disgust he looked at the body, "Ugh.." Norman looked at the skylight for a minute, coming towards him he felt like he saw something going to attack him. He paused for a minute.

[TimeToRP]

Norman's eyes we're turning red, he didn't realize. He put on his ARI Glasses again, slipping on his glove. A big map popped in front of him, and a fake world appeared in front of him. The blood came under his ARI Glasses, he took off his ARI Glasses. Sighing to himself, he put them down, taking off his glove.
He was paranoid, crazy he didn't know what to do. He was so crazed out, blood came out of his eyes. He started to move around, ruining his stability, he took a dose of his triptocane drug. He fell into his chair, sighing in relief.

[ArenaSnow]

His hopes raised a little with the firework of explosions outside the apartment, but quickly faded when the makeshift defense that he had just made was quickly approached by the horde inside. The previous one fell quickly; this was the last one before the entire level, which a good amount of people were on, would be swarmed.

"Uh... might need a little help here!" He called down the hallway as he swung a crowbar at the first of them, with a sickening smack. He swung again, but the next zombie, by some stroke of luck, pulled the crowbar right out of his hand and almost had him beinding into the face of one of the monstrocities, which was quickly being backed up by what he could see to be a minimum of ten more. He pushed himself back and went into the room besides him, pulling out a rather flimsy broom, and in his other hand pulling out the gun. He didn't want to waste ammo if he didn't have to... but considering a small assortment of tables and chairs were blocking the landing, there wasn't too many options until the others arrived to give a little help.

[hivekiller]

Tyson was still searching for useful stuffs inside his apartment unit. More explosions and gunshots can be heard coming from the sky above the apartment. Tyson gathered a bag of stuffs and put it on a sofa, and walked near to the window beside his bed to check out the situation outside. He saw a helicopter, firing towards the lower level of the apartment. But it was not a good time to stop and enjoy the view of a metal bird shooting at the zombies, Tyson need to leave this place as fast as possible.

Tyson grabbed his equipment and was about to leave the bedroom, but he heard noises from the living room. He hold the knife he took earlier firmly in his right hand, preparing to face the unknown lurking in the living room. "Uh... might need a little help here!" After Tyson heard the shout, he moved towards the living room silently. He saw a guy with a crowbar fighting off the zombies. The door was not locked, that explained how they got inside.

"Hey! Watch Out!" Tyson ran towards a zombie and stabbed it with the knife in his right hand. But it was probably not a good idea to go near the front door now, as more zombies started to appear outside the front door of his apartment unit.

[Yojimbo]

The sounds of the creatures below his position started growing louder, immediately followed by the sounds of furniture breaking and shuffling of rushed footsteps. Moving his way to the railing and peering over the ledge, Nicholas watched as a group of corpses made their way over his makeshift barricade. All the good the attack helicopter managed on the outside of the apartment building, amplified the inside's horrors to turn into frenzied monsters. The sounds of a struggle from two of the survivors caught wind in Grayeson's ears and he made his way down the staircase to help. In one of the nearby rooms, he watched as a few of the creatures drunkenly made their way inside the open doorway and were slowly followed by their "friends." Slinging his rifle behind him and snapping it in place, Nicholas drew his combat knife and made his way quickly to the oncoming horde. A few caught his scent and turned their attention towards him instead of the peoplw inside the room the others went into; allowing whoever was inside, some time to deal with those in the room. A forward kick to the chest of the nearest one, Grayeson watched as the creature to fell back into it's fellow monsters. This would cause all of them fall in a bowling pin fashion and back down the stairs they were trying to scale. Without skipping a beat, Nicholas turned his attention to the one on his right, which was slowly making its way towards him with its foul-smelling mouth wide open. Reaching up and grabbing the creature by the throat, he slammed it into the nearby wall and "inserted" his blade through its temple. When the corpse finally went limp, he let go off the body and threw a quick elbow to the face of the monster encroaching behind him; causing it to stumble backwards some. Following up with a side kick, Grayeson watched as the creature fell off the railing and into a group of corpses below him. With the monsters having trouble recovering from their snapped limps from their tumbles down the stairwell, he checked to ensure there were no more immediate threats and turned back towards the open room.

"Hopefully whoever is in there is still alive... otherwise this would've been pointless." he told himself, stabbing the area connecting the spinal cord and skull of a lone creature as he entered the room.

As another creature started turning its attention to him, he moved just in time to side step out of the way of its open jaws. Throwing a hammerfist into the creature's chest, simultaneously sweeping the back of its knee; Nicholas dropped the corpse on the ground with a hard thud. Without skipping a beat, he put his knee into the monster's chest and "punched" his knife through its temple. Removing his blade, he spun around and swept the leg of the nearest creature to him. Rolling on the floor and next to the grounded monster, he slammed his knife through the nose of the creature and watched it also go limp. Rolling backwards and on to his feet into a combat stance, he took into account there was one monster left and it was the police officer and someone else he was actually helping out. Knowing the policeman could handle at least one, he also notice he had drawn his sidearm and was pointing it towards the remaining corpse. Reaching up and motioning for the "hush" action, Nicholas prayed he took what he was trying to get at to end the monster's existence. Turning back to the situation outside the room, Grayeson made his way back out the room and watched as more of the monsters were starting to gain momentum up the stairs. Taking a deep breath and wiping off he sweat from his brow, he readied himself for another fight in the fray.

[orangebox]

Han Su Ying (Sue)

---

Three Towers Apartment Complex, Second Floor Stairwell

With the explosions and what seems to be a barrage of machine-gun fire going on the outer vicinity of the apartments, Sue breathed a sigh of relief as the horde bearing down onto them would no longer be a problem. However, the undead in the lobby still posed a threat - to which she decided that she needed to be ready if it all goes to hell, not to mention the sudden power outage had turned everything dark. As her eyes began to accustom to the darkness, she peeked down the stairwell. With the silhouettes barely visible, she was relieved to know that the undead were still attempting to breach the makeshift blockade. Quickly, she left the group and climbed up the stairs.

Most of the survivors that fled the lobby apparently had all returned to their rooms, doors visible through the stairwell were all closed shut with barely a soul lingering outside. She contemplated for a second if she should follow suit as she climbed another level up onto the fourth floor. No problems yet, to which she then continued to the fifth. Silently but with a decent pace, she huddled over to her apartment unit; Room 505. She opened the doors which was left unlocked earlier and closed it shut, never giving a thought if anything or anyone entered at all. Considering that the doors were not open in the first place, she figured no one tried to. With a quick flip on the lock assuring that no one - dead or alive would be able to enter, she felt a temporary relief as she let out a sigh.

---

Three Towers Apartment Complex, Unit 505

Now, to stay or pack up?

Sue began to weigh her options as she stood with the door behind her back; survive alone within her apartment unit and hopefully wait for the return of her housemate - however unlikely it was, or work together with the other tenants who were feverishly trying to survive. After about a minute of consideration, she chose the latter.

Pacing towards her room, she then reached for her trusty slingbag with her other hand swiftly on her favorite sketchbook; the first few pages filled with random doodles, as she stuffed it into her slingbag without a second thought. "Good for when I'm bored I suppose, Zombie Apocalypses portrayed in pop culture were never really exciting business," she mused to herself while she grabbed her pencil case, filled with an assortment of pens, pen-nibs, pencils and a tiny ink bottle. She then turned over to her work desk and quickly pulled the drawers out, revealing an assortment of trinkets and doodads. Her eyes jumped from item to item, to which it finally laid upon a spectacle case. "I'll need a spare in case...Quite blind without these..." she mused to herself before grabbing her pair of less fashionable spare spectacles neatly rested in a spectacle case.

She left the room and paced towards the kitchen area. Quickly, she opened up all the cabinets and drawers revealing a mixture of random Asian condiments and cooking utensils. She grabbed a few packets of instant noodles, her private-use water tumbler in the fridge and finally a Chinese chopper, the Asian all-in-one cooking knife. Looking at herself in the reflection, she resembled a Hong Kong triad member or a crazy lady off to kill debtors - to which she gave a quick chuckle. She gave herself another minute to think if she needed to grab anything else, then headed back to the door - Chinese chopper on her strong arm.

She breathed in and calmed herself a little, as she unlocked her unit door and slowly pulled it open before taking a peek at the hallway - playing it a little safe.

[Lone Wanderer]

Three Towers Apartment Complex, 4th floor, 2nd room.
A few minutes earlier

After collecting himself and his thoughts. Ryan glanced down the short hallway that opened up into the main living room and open kitchen of his apartment unit. To his left, a closed door which he knew led into the bathroom. Further along and on the right, were two doors into two bedrooms, one his own, the other a spare.
Should probably get that room converted into something, perhaps have the wall knocked in and have a master size bedroom, sounds good.
His thoughts absently wandered as he cautiously, step after step made his way along the hallway. He would be a liar if he said he wasn't a little on edge right now, the thought that maybe something had somehow found a way into the apartment, was at the forefront of his mind now. Opening each door as he passed, he'd quickly peer in as he continued, next he found himself in the rather large, when compared with the hallway anyway main room of his apartment.
Nothing... nothing at all

Then hellfire rocked the earth, an explosion flared from the window but disappeared as quickly as it had come.
"The fuck..." Ryan rushed towards the windows set along the outer wall of his apartment, he saw an attack helicopter, defiantly military from the looks of it. But his eyes didn't linger on it for long when he saw the destruction it had caused on the street below. Corpses littered the street outside the apartment. Ryan saw it all, the burnt husks of bodies, the stench of burnt flesh and the few that survived, now crawling along the pavement, leaving a trail of blood in their wake. At this moment, Ryan didn't know what to feel, how could he? But this was also a sign, the military was still here meaning there was a chance, a chance for something, he just had to survive until then...

Three Towers Apartment Complex, 4th floor, 2nd room.
Present

Just have to survive...
Turning to his apartment and away from the violent and bloody scene behind him on the streets. He was in full survival mode now. He moved around the apartment quickly and with purpose, he plugged the kitchen sink, bathroom sink and bath with a plug before turning each cold water tap on, sending torrents forth of water into the tubs. After all, he didn't know when the water would stop and he best have it now than never. There was a moment when the taps stopped sending forth their soon to be valuable nectar. He remembered that the apartment units in the tower were all connected to the same water supply, and with him using so much water at once would probably disrupt the supply to other apartments albeit temporarily. Waiting until each sink or bath was close to over spilling before he turned their respective taps off. He took a step back and reflected on the last few minutes, unaware of the worsening chaos below, he knew he had to get back down there though, help in someway.
Now to find that gun...