Randall turned his attention away from the comms and back to the survivor, who appears to still be mussing with his new crowbar.
"S-So, do you have a n-name? Mine's Randall. I'm b-being asked for e-exact information about t-those things, so tell me all that you know while t-things calm down outside."Rage paused, looking at him for a moment as if chewing on something in his mind. He glanced outside the building for a moment, which wasn't hard considering the large holes in the wall, then back at Randall.
"Wilmer. And I can tell you more, that's no damn problem, but I want to know more about this bunker place first. I answered some of your questions, how about answering some of mine now, all civil and shit. How many people are in the bunker? How much food?"Both were interrupted from any sort of conversation as a loud crack rang out from down the street, opposite of the way they ran.
"The fuck was that?"
Samuel and
Harvey both hide in the store, one behind the counter with Claudius and the other by some shelves, knives out and ready for whatever might happen. Claudius kept his rifle at ready, his trigger finger practically dancing inside of the trigger guard as he stared outside of the portal into his store, waiting.
"You kill it I owe you one, I kill it you owe me one, that sound fair to you Claudius?"Harvey laid out his terms to the gunman, appealing to his pride and sense of competition. The man reciprocated.
"Oh how marvelous, a challenge! Well your on, valued customer! While you may always be right, you will not always win I'm afraid."He stopped speaking as he looked more intently outside, narrowing his gaze, steadying his breath and pulled the trigger. A loud, deafening retort echoed inside the store, and a bright flash came from the barrel. Claudius raised his fist in triumph, looking at the two self-satisfaction, a satisfying-if-grotesque thud of fast moving metal hitting meat heard from outside.
His grin vanished as a shadow flew at him. The man quickly raised his rifle in an attempt to protect himself. The black mass impacted with the rifle and sent its owner flying backwards, the mass included as it clung to him. The both landed with a loud crunch against the back wall, Claudius on the ground with the thing atop him, holding him down with its four limbs. Each limb was of several segments, some more than the others, each segment a mess of hands, spikes, twists and turns as it pinned its victim down.
Twice the size of any human, twisting amorphously like a snake, the dreadful creature bared its sharpened-bone filled maw at the man under it. Its three-faced head, two immaculate faces opposite the other with a mass-splitting maw running from tip to neck hissed out the vaporous black substance over the man as he hacked in an attempt to breathe, trying to shove the thing off.
It barely regarded anything else in the room as it snapped its jaw at Claudius, ready for what would be its meal. The strange creature was unnaturally silent the entire time, not a sound, not a creak, not a click, not a crack.
Ranged Assault (Claudius): [2 + 1 + 1 = 4]
Dodge (
): [2 + 1 = 3]
Soak (): [6 + 1 = 7]
Special: Pounce (): [4 + 1 + 1 = 6]
Resist (Claudius): [6]
Luck (): [4]
"What an interesting-looking place. Let's explore it."Freddie suggested to Frogdo, who regarded the nearly run-down outpost. They both quietly entered through the through the already opened door. It wasn't much better than the outside, a mess of scattered junk and opened containers in varying states of damage. It wasn't terribly well lit, the only source of light coming from the outside by the windows, and from underneath another door in the room.
The building was largely one room, with a small door connecting to the garage to the next to it, the one with light coming from underneath it. Upturned furniture and desks littered the corners, having been moved by someone it seems. Some had computers on them, slim built in monitors housing the circuitry for them to function, but most were broken or cracked, and those that weren't had no power. A bit of jury rigging might be able to remove one or two, with a screw driver or a bit of force.
The carpeting, once probably soft and clean, was dusty and dirt covered, dried specs of red on the floor in various places where the desks were shoved. The floor was so dirty in fact that foot prints could be made out on the carpet leading to a variety of places on the floor, namely the desks and couches, the doors, and one set to a stapler that appears nailed to a wall with large metal spike for some reason.
Freddie searched through the place top to bottom, on the lookout for any kind of equipment or information that could be useful as Frogdo stared at the stapler.
The desks had technical papers on them, of various power readings and maintenance logs that date back months before the evacuation, but nothing recent. Other papers were of a more personal matter, to do lists being the majority. Inside the desks there were some candy bars, nothing nutritious, and all sadly expired. There were paper and pens, an old beat up lighter and an empty pack of old cigarettes. The best find however was after shifting some desks, Freddie could sight a small fridge hidden behind a couch.
After a few minutes of shifting, the contents of the fridge are exposed! Sadly most was horrifying mold-covered foods that were likely the engineers lunches for that day, but there were a few bottles of water and a few cans of food that seem to still be good despite their cousins who fell to the fungal threat. It was all warm as it seems the fridge was unplugged long ago.
There was also roughly thirty some credit-unions found among the desks. Most just called them "unions," "credits," or "See-Yous," but that's their official name at least. As to if they're still worth anything is under question.
All that was left was the garage. Freddie peaked into the garage past the door, which quite needed its hinges oiled. It was similarly a large singular room, however it continued down into a dark tunnel where the singular light that lit the area couldn't reach. But thankfully there was indeed light, the small circle on the ceiling still glowing warmly on those down below it as it did before whatever happened, causing many of its electrical companions to break or shatter.
Inside the room though was something of interest. A small equipment conveyer sat on the floor up against a wall, propped up by jacks from the engineers that must of been working on it. It lacked wheels, most of its frame, and really any other amenities of the sleek and fashionable cars that sat broken on the streets outside, but did look in better shape considering. What's more interesting, however, was inside the vehicle. A small memory stick sat in the corner of the floor, underneath one of the pedals. It looked a bit beat up, but it didn't have much of the dust that covered the vehicle itself.
Everything seemed quiet and calm, the only company being themselves in the building.
Search (Freddie): [5] 
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Topic: Survival At Its Finest: Waking Up From Sleep Mode (Q&A) (Read 58119 times)