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| >> Campfire Creative >> Fiction >> Action/Adventure >> ID #1743741 |   |
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| [Introduction]
October 24, 2024 Outside Yonkers, New York The traitors have locked themselves inside their fortress. The former city of Yonkers has become little more than a small holdout; one of the last desperate homes of mankind after the devastation. But they too shall fall, crushed under our heel as we bring the dream of the new world order to fruition. All that we have worked for over the six long months will finally be fulfilled. The constant persecutions of our kind, the fate so many of us suffered at the hands of the survivors, will not be in vain. All of our kind, the "disfigured," the "mutants," shall rise up. Mankind may have forsaken us, but they will not soon forget who we are. I have yet to discover who has lost themselves more over the months since the virus was first released. Could it be us, the carriers of the disease, afflicted but yet not dieing? Or is it the survivors, who so relentlessly turned against us, who used to be as human as them, and treated us as though we were the plague ourselves? Do our physical ailments, such as loss of one of my arms, the tendrils that sprouted from my back or the splotches of color that now decorate my skin, outweigh their mental ones? The coming days shall define the future of our planet. We, the carriers, shall rise up and crush mankind. None will be left in our way, and the planet will fall to its rightful owners. ((Alright folks, here's a new one. First off, let me lay out some basic information. 1. The official start point of this is those six months before this introduction, when our virus was first released. 2. You've got two real choices for type of character: survivor and carrier. Carriers, once the virus rolls around, will get infected, become horribly disfigured, but won't die. They are still contagious, however. 3. The virus does kill a large majority of those it infects. Next, just several basic rules. 1. No godmoding. You control your character and your character alone. 2. The time limit on posts is four days. After that, you're skipped. 3. Three skips in a row and you're out. (Unless you've otherwise told me of some reason you won't be able to post for an extended period of time.) 4. While character bios are -NOT- required, I would appreciate it if you could send me just a brief outline. I won't hold anyone accountable for this. Just helps me keep better track of things. 5. Just in case there's any confusion from my opening post: No, Cthulhu has nothing to do with this. Just a way to get you to know my character. Well, that should cover it unless I think of something else later. And now, go!)) |
 Lethor  April 4, 2024 Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania The note was still folded in his hand, his fingers clenched tightly around the piece of paper. Over the past few days, he had read through it more than a few times. He had memorized every line, every stroke of the pen whoever the mysterious author was had made. Normally, he would have never paid attention to this sort of thing. Only lunatics obsessed about things that made no sense, like the 2012 fanatics of the past. He was still sane, right? He opened the piece of paper again, reading the lines he knew all too well. To Whom It May Concern, I wish you the best of luck in the coming days. Doubtless your life has many of its own struggles. How are you going to get enough money to pay off your debt? When are you ever going to get time to yourself? I'm sure these and other things currently give you much stress. What if I were to tell you all of that was going to end soon? That all of your troubles would leave you? That from a time in the near future out, they would melt away? Do I have you attention? Soon, very soon, the Dark One is returning. Accept that fact and come to peace with it as soon as possible. Indeed, the dreamer shall return to our world, and bring about our end. Fear not if you worship him! You shall be granted a quick death for your loyalty! The fools, the unaware, they are the ones who shall suffer. Your troubles will be gone with your life, but they will know pain eternally! The end of the world is upon us. The Dark Lord is returning! Accept your fate, and die peacefully! Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn. Chris folded the note up again. Why did this bother him so much? He didn't even know who this Dark One was, let alone whether he existed or not. He wasn't one of those conspiracy nuts, who spent every moment they had on the internet, arguing over whether or not President Fulkner was secretly in alliance with aliens. He was just a typical man, trying to make his way through life on the streets of Pittsburgh. Chris flipped on the television, turning over to the news. There was some mention of a world-renowned scientist he had never heard of being brought in for questioning by the government. As if anyone cared about that. He flipped the set off and decided to head to town for the night. There was never anything good on. He looked in the mirror quickly to make sure he was presentable for going out in public. A quick brush of his unkempt hair with his hand was enough for him. He dropped the strange note on the table by the door of his apartment and left after turning the lights out. Yaicon Henry slowly shut the door as he stepped gingerly into his house. He had gotten home pretty late from working on the new building complex downtown, and his fiancée would surely be asleep by now. Henry quietly walked down the dark hallway and turned into the kitchen, sliding his hand along the wall until he succesfully found and flipped on the light switch. Henry's stomach growled loudly, almost echoing, in the silent house. "I know, I know," He said patting his rounding belly. "After working so long, we both deserve a snack."Henry rummaged through the fridge, and the cabinets, and the drawers, until he finally decided on some cereal. He fixed himself a bowl and sat down at the table, sliding an already opened newspaper to him. While munching on his snack, he would glance at the paper to scan for any headlines or words that might catch his interest. Eventually he settled on an article about some car manufacturer producing vehicles with highly flammable materials in their seats. Boring. Henry finished up his snack and placed the dirty bowl in the sink. He rolled up the newspaper and exited the kitchen, making sure to turn off the light as he walked by. He resumed his silent walk down the hallway until he finally came upon his bedroom door. Henry slid it open and found his fiancée snoring softly with her face buried in a pillow. He couldn't help but grin from ear to ear as he joined her on the bed. Henry flipped on the small lamp next to his side of the bed, and reopened the newspaper. He wasn't tired just yet. Page by page he flipped through, making sure to spend a few minutes reading this week's comic strips. Then, a strange picture caught Henry's eye: a man in a lab coat being hauled off by two armed police officers. A quick skim of the article revealed that this man was suspected of creating some sort of secret military plague. Before Henry could read more thoroughly, he felt movement to his right. "I'm sorry, Valencia. Did I wake you up?" "Yeah," Valencia said, smiling warmly. "But I don't mind." "Get back to sleep," Henry leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "You get some sleep too," Valencia said, closing her eyes again. "I'm making breakfast in the morning. Good night." "Good night," Henry said as he neatly folded his newspaper and placed it on the nightstand. Henry leaned over and turned the lamp off, wriggling himself to join Valencia under the blankets. Only a few moments passed before he drifted off to sleep. © Copyright 2011 Lethor, Yaicon, (known as GROUP). All rights reserved. GROUP has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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