growing up, I've always had a recurring dream of a total failure of society in respects of it's natural functioning. I learned of our enemies early in my childhood and strengthened my meddle, my mentality, my courage and eventually my command for that day that arrived not a moment too soon. I've always known it would come, and I hoped that the survivors would become fighters and brothers in arms. i am 26 years old now and my intentions are to add many more at any cost. My remaining family members will stay remaining.
At the time of the zombie outbreak I was...
at work in a auto parts warehouse. I was immediately attacked and so i grabbed the nearest object-a crowbar that was just used a moment before the infection hit , by an infected employee. obviously, I fought through and got out, taking with me the best chances of me surviving the day. For now, I am alone... my rendezvous point has been cut off and have no telling of an opportune time to meet them. 9 miles separates me from my survivors.
Weapon of choice for fighting zombies...
I am not in the desired condition to fight, which is to have at hand, my father's gift to me- a beretta; and my prized spiked club. But in my present situiation I find myself wielding as a primary weapon: aluminum baseball bat. secondary weapon: stolen hunting rifle from Big 5 Sporting goods.
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At 8:56pm on December 20, 2008, RONoftheDEAD said…
S.O.S. I find myself exhausted- physically and mentally, as well as my options. My beretta can no longer give me solace. My blade has yielded all it could. With bloodied fists and a bloodier conscience, I stare at a barricaded door. One foot lies between them and their prize. Devil on my left tells me to welcome them in. Angel on my right whispers to remain steadfast. S.O.S.
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