Post by Audition Imagination on Jan 6, 2012 18:46:43 GMT -6
OOC: Care
Charrie: Rebellion Girl- Kea
Back against a large oak tree, Arron stood, waiting for a chance to sneak into the building. He heard voices; he knew he had! Not only that, but if a whole group of zombies where in there, there was bound to be a group of humans that they where after. He hadn't seen a human face in at least a week; only the infected, half dead and rotting faces of zombies. He shuddered at the thought. There was a time where he would have scoffed at someone who had claimed to see a zombie. To him, they had been nothing but fairytales; but now they where all too real.
Besides, he figured he could assist his fellow race; he had a pocket knife after all, and it was sharp and reasonably long. Maybe in return they would let him join their group, and he wouldn't have to be alone in this apocalypse anymore.
When it seemed that all the zombies had dispersed from the side area of the building, he sprinted out from behind his cover and leaped onto the rusted fire escape that hung precariously over the area. His hands grasped the cold metal and he quickly pulled himself up, throwing his legs over the railing sighing in relief as his feet hit the metal. Glancing down to make sure no living dead had seen him, Arron ran up the stairs as fast as he dared. The fire escape was somewhat rickety, and he figured that the zombies would have no trouble devouring him if he fell off and became unconscious. But when he neared the top, something happened. An explosion. It shook the fire escape and the rail he was leaning on broke, one side swinging down, leaving him with one hand clasped on, and the other groping for something to grab....
Charrie: Rebellion Girl- Kea
~Aaron~
Back against a large oak tree, Arron stood, waiting for a chance to sneak into the building. He heard voices; he knew he had! Not only that, but if a whole group of zombies where in there, there was bound to be a group of humans that they where after. He hadn't seen a human face in at least a week; only the infected, half dead and rotting faces of zombies. He shuddered at the thought. There was a time where he would have scoffed at someone who had claimed to see a zombie. To him, they had been nothing but fairytales; but now they where all too real.
Besides, he figured he could assist his fellow race; he had a pocket knife after all, and it was sharp and reasonably long. Maybe in return they would let him join their group, and he wouldn't have to be alone in this apocalypse anymore.
When it seemed that all the zombies had dispersed from the side area of the building, he sprinted out from behind his cover and leaped onto the rusted fire escape that hung precariously over the area. His hands grasped the cold metal and he quickly pulled himself up, throwing his legs over the railing sighing in relief as his feet hit the metal. Glancing down to make sure no living dead had seen him, Arron ran up the stairs as fast as he dared. The fire escape was somewhat rickety, and he figured that the zombies would have no trouble devouring him if he fell off and became unconscious. But when he neared the top, something happened. An explosion. It shook the fire escape and the rail he was leaning on broke, one side swinging down, leaving him with one hand clasped on, and the other groping for something to grab....