Code :: Necrosis

This is an action/conspiracy story depicting mankind's survival against it's own bio-chemical creation: Zombies. Characters of this story are our beloved RQS members as well as some fictional characters. This was originally Rana's idea, but he entrusted it to me. If you want to be a part of this story, let me know.

WARNING: Rated for mature readers due to extreme violence, foul language, racial discrimination, explicit depictions of sex and sexual innuendo, and grotesque depictions of death, disease, murder, insanity, and inhumanity.

Well... It's really nowhere near as bad as it sounds... But you've been warned anyway.

Chapters:

Character Introduction: Rana
Chapter 1: Fury
Chapter 2: Unnerving

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Last edited by CSX on Wed Jun 13, 2007 9:22 pm; edited 3 times in total

Character Introduction: Rana

5 pages…

He had been working on his summer assignment for nearly eight hours, with the occasional trip to the restroom and the relieving stretch. He did not care that he was alone in an entire lecture hall. He did not care that he wasn’t even supposed to be in a UCLA lecture hall at this time–why was he even in an empty lecture hall? Because he knew he would be distracted elsewhere. He did not care that he hadn’t eaten breakfast or had any kind of nutritional or sexual nourishment... well, nutritional no. Sex yes. He did not even care that he was likely to collapse due to fatigue… He just did not care. He was hell-bent on finishing the assignment so that he could prepare for his summer trip to Japan uninterrupted. Besides… plenty of time to sleep on the plane. This would be his fifth, with each consecutive trip more enlightening and rewarding than the last. He had become increasingly fond of the Japanese culture with each visit, which in turn reminded him to appreciate everything he had back in the good ole’ US of A… Which… Whenever he thought about it, didn’t really amount to much in recent memory…

4 pages…

Recently, the United States government had been cracking down on… pretty much everything. Arrests are being made left and right for no explicable reason, as per the recent suspension of Habeas Corpus. If you look funny, they'll arrest you. If you spit on the floor, they'll arrest you. If you tell anyone you need to take a crap, you'd better dump your load fast because they sure as hell will arrest you. They claim it’s for ‘tighter security measures’, a reason which nobody with any sense bought. Major cities such as Los Angeles, Dallas, New York and the ever important D.C. have had riots left and right, with people protesting for their rights. The Midwest has become a very popular area for Americans to move to in recent time, because the desolate cities of the Midwest are nowhere near as explosive as the populated coastal ones. Nothing good was happening in the land of freedom, and conspiracy stories have become more prevalent than ever.

3 pages…

Some have said executive members of the government are staging a coup d’état. Some have said big corporations are taking over the country by regulating business everywhere–how that related to peoples’ violation of rights, he did not know. Some have said that members of the government AND big corporations are staging a coup d’état. So many unoriginal variations of the same story… In fact, it has recently become a smart business investment to create websites acting as repositories for storing all these so called conspiracies. The profits from the ads on each respective site are astronomical. Three news agencies have sired themselves by ad revenue from conspiracy stories alone. Google even created its own ‘Conspiracy Search’ function…

That’s right… You heard me… GOOGLE HAS A FUCKING CONSPIRACY SEARCH!! He let out a sigh. 2 pages…

Some have even gone so far to claim that the government had created multiple nondescript budgets for funding a bio super weapon, supposedly an engineered black plague of some sort, to be unleashed in the advent of Def Con 1. Thankfully those bizarre stories haven’t reached popularity… yet. Hysteria has run so rampant through peoples’ minds that business owners would make a killing off this plague story if it got popular, which it likely will.

Hey… That’s not half a bad idea… 1 page left.

None of it mattered to him, though, as he was young, energetic, enthusiastic, reaping all the benefits of his youth. If he was going to die or be arrested, might as well die or be arrested having fun than brooding in fear.

Bibliography… AH FUCK THE BIBLIOGRAPHY! He thought to himself as he shoved all his books and research material off the table and organized the papers in his final draft. He finally finished. Well, except for the bibliography… There were so many books that he really didn’t want to sort through it all… But he could do that at the last minute. All he needed to do was wait for the library to issue his late return notice and copy all the books and borrowed materials on the list. He didn’t mind paying the late fee because he’d probably make twice as much selling random conspiracy stories to news agencies. Genius, thy name is Rana Du.

He stood up to his somewhat imposing six foot two height to stretch and gaze out at the summer that would be his nineteenth. Noon sunlight tanned his black straight hair and glittered his brown eyes. He gazed on to the skies that his first class plane would soon glide through.

Japan. It’s going to be hot as hell this summer, but it’s sure worth it.

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Chapter 1: Fury

Note: This takes place right after Character Introduction: Rana

Rana walked through the hallway to the restroom to wash his hands and face, to freshen up, to keep himself from falling asleep after eight hours of nonstop work. Now came the dreadful task of walking home since he didn’t have a ride–that damned Oliver wouldn’t pick up the phone, at the time he needed him most. He dipped his whole arms into the sink, washing all the pencil lead that had smeared all over them. Just on a whim, he flushed two thumbs worth of soap onto his arms and scraped them as if he were rubbing lotion over them–it was like bathing in victory, cleansing that plight off his pure skin.

Why am I thinking about pencil lead? This is what lack of sleep does to people.

Clank! Slam!

He heard a loud metal clamoring in the hall on his way back. He figured it was caused by the exit door closing by itself. He entered the lecture hall where his work was. He had left his final draft in the lecture hall before leaving to freshen up. It didn’t matter, since no one was even on the campus except for himself. Who the hell was there to take it? No one was there.

Apparently there is.

He searched high and low through the lecture hall to find his suddenly vanished research paper. Was he in the wrong hall? No chance, because this hall was the only one that was open. He looked at the floor to find his pile of books with spits of dirt all over them. He looked around the books to find dirt ridden foot prints surrounded by an odor that reeked of dog feces of leading out to the reverse exit of the one he entered.

Rage permeated his thoughts as he realized somebody had stolen his research paper. Who the hell would take it? Whoever that fucker was, he would die an excruciating death. Rana ran out the hall completely disregarding the books and followed the distinct odor through the corridor connecting all the halls. He ran into a forked path, and did what Oliver did best and trusted his gut feeling. His gut feeling rewarded him with a hunched man standing at the end of the hall, wearing worn out jeans and a blue trench coat that had definitely seen better days, staring straight at Rana with pupils smaller than the tip of a nail. He was holding Rana’s research paper, his mouth was wide open, with teeth yellow enough to make a banana look bleached. Out of his mouth was a stream of drool flowing onto Rana’s paper and down to the floor. He certainly didn’t look like a UC student, and even less smelled like one.

This Mexican homeless piece of shit…

Rana walked closer, with each step increasing his urge to regurgitate. He stopped, rose to his full imposing height, and searched for the words to ask… no… Demand that his paper be returned. Just as he found the words…

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGHHHHHHH The hunched man screamed in a completely unnatural sonic, ear splitting voice reminiscent of some kind of Jackal before leaping toward Rana.

Rana instinctively readied himself into a defensive stance and placed his left arm up to guard against whatever attack ‘it’ shot at him. This turned out to be the wrong choice, as the Thing bit right into his forearm. He pressed his hand against the Thing’s face trying to pry him off. The more he pried, the deeper its teeth sank in. He tried punching it in the face, but the Thing was completely focused on his arm, as it gripped his wrist and elbow with both arms, as if it were chewing through a drumstick. He kicked it, punched it, head butted it, anything to get the Thing off. He couldn’t resist the pain, the urge, any longer and screamed in agony the loudest cry his voice could produce. He recollected himself in the process and kicked it in the leg, causing it to lose balance, and lifted it off its feet and threw it on its back, barely causing it to let go of his arm.

He hastily backed as far as he could away from the Thing before hitting the wall, trying give himself some time to recover from the pain. He looked at his arm to find blood oozing out of tightly packed indents in his arm.

FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK! His arm bled. The hall smelled like buffalo feces because of that Thing. His tongue was dry and tasted bitter after screaming so much. He looked at the Thing, and it stared at him. He strafed slowly toward a glass casing embedded into the wall. It strafed slowly in the same clockwise direction, as if trying to keep an even diameter between itself and its prey. They circled around, staring at each other, with murderous gleams in their eyes that would make a lion cower in fear. He didn’t know what this Thing was after, or what he was going to do… All he knew was…

He was pissed. He was going to kill it. He was going to fucking kill it. Going to rip its guts out. Make it scream that freaky Jackal battle cry in agony and make it chew its own gore and blood. He was going to completely turn it inside out. The consequences? What fucking consequences? How was he going to kill it? He didn’t know. He didn’t care. Bloodlust took over his mind and soul.

He elbowed through the glass casing and took out a heavily embellished trophy out of it. Blood trickled down his elbow, but he didn’t care. He clutched the head of the trophy with both hands, as if holding a baseball bat. The Thing screamed that ear splitting battle cry of its, and charged at him. Rana stared down at that hunched freak, his eyes set on his target…

“SEE IF YOU CAN FUCKING TAKE ME!”

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Chapter 2: Unnerving

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!! The Thing screamed.

It charged at him with both hands set on grabbing its target. He stared at the creature in curiosity, wondering why it did nothing for a defensive stance of some sort. It’s like he’s a zombie or something. He shook the thought off and swung his trophy bat toward the left side of the Thing’s face. It fell back and He backed away a bit, trying to regain composure after such a violent swing. He looked to find a scrape on his left knuckle, realizing that he barely managed to avoid being bitten again.

Blood shot down the Thing’s face as it mindlessly stood up and assumed the same zombielike posture it previously used. Rana found it strange how it was almost unaffected by the preceding blow. He started to lose a bit of nerve. Maybe he really is a zombie... Only one way to find out. He swung at it again, with the same result. It fell to the floor, but this time it got up much faster. He swung in at it again, but this time it seemed like it was expecting it, and managed to duck under the swing. It moved a lot faster than he had expected, and was within arms distance in the blink of an eye.

He immediately dropped the trophy, realizing it could not be used defensively, and grabbed its two arms, hoping to force it into ground lock. This tactic that might have worked well against a normal person failed miserably against this thing, as it completely ignored his attempt to hold him and bent its head forward and went straight for the neck. Rana strafed his neck to the right to try and dodge, but it somehow snapped its neck forward, biting right into his left shoulder.

Immediately he let go of its arms, turning attention to prying the zombie off of him. Tears welded his eyes as the familiar pain sent a burning sensation all over his body, especially his neck area. He slipped his thumbs into its mouth and pulled the upper and lower jaw apart as hard as he possibly could. This eventually proved to be enough, as he successfully forced it off his neck and kicked it away. He tapped his shoulder and pulled his fingers right in front of him to see blood all over his fingers. He threw his thoughts of pain away and picked up the trophy.

It’s pretty obvious he’s completely oblivious to his lack of defense… So there’s really no point in playing mind games with him. I just need to make sure he doesn’t bite me again…

He charged at the Thing and lunged the trophy forward, stabbing it in gut and causing it to lower its head down. It had prepared no defense for itself, just as he reasoned. Rana strafed to his side and swung the trophy down as hard as he possibly could, right down the back of its neck. It fell down with its neck making an unnerving cracking sound and a pool of blood forming below its head.

He backed off, gasping for breath. It took him a moment to realize he just killed someone. Did he deserve it? Hell yes. Stealing something is terrible, but trying to bite someone’s head off is something else entirely. And why the fuck did he even want my research paper? He was tempted to look around and find it but figured he should rest for a moment and call the authorities to clean up this mess. He looked at his wounds and was grateful that only a small stream of blood tattered his arms and shoulders, not the pints he originally assumed it would amount to.

Uuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgghhh…… He heard a strange moaning.

No… No way…

He looked up to find that thing struggling to its feet. It really was a zombie. What was once absolute bloodlust turned into absolute fear. What the hell had he gotten himself into? Was he losing his mind? No human could survive that! Of course, that thing was apparently not human…

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, he ran; ran out of sheer fear. He had to get help. He had read dozens of books in the past regarding survival against zombies, but those were humor books. What the hell was he supposed to do now, with a real, live – or dead – zombie staring down his throat? The more appropriate question was… who out there would be able to help him?

He reached into his pocket to pick out his cell phone, only to realize that he had somehow left it back at the lecture hall. He remembered listening to music through his phone but disliked having to constantly pick the phone out of his pocket to change tracks, and so left it atop the table altogether. He turned at the open door of the lecture hall, almost sliding and falling from running. Hastily he picked up the cell phone and speed dialed Oliver’s number… which ended up on voice mail. At the time I absolutely need him the most… The one time I'm actually SCARED of something! He pulled the phone out of his ear and was about to dial 911, when he felt a strange presence behind him. Somehow… the zombie caught up to him…

Using its arms, it turned Rana around and attempted once again to bite into his neck. He kicked the zombie in the gut once again, and pushed it away using both feet and the desk as a fallback. He felt a strange tingling sensation on his neck and he brushed it. He looked at his fingers and sighed in relief that there was no blood. At the same time, though, he realized that if he was a split second late, he would’ve been dead.

The zombie charged straight at him again, albeit at a much faster and more aggressive pace. Pretty fast for a guy who just had his neck snapped in half… He pulled out a chair from under the table and pushed it against the zombie.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!! It screamed once again.

He kicked the zombie’s foot, causing it to lose balance. He took advantage and pressed the chair against the zombie and pushed it down the floor. With zombie flailing its arms at every conceivable direction, struggling to get back up, he managed to angle the chair head against its neck. He forced the chair down onto the zombie’s neck, using every last bit of weight as pressure. He jumped down onto the chair, hoping his sitting weight would be enough to crush its neck in half… again. It did, and blood splattered all over his clothes, but cleanliness wasn’t really a concern at the given moment.

He pulled the chair up off the zombie and used the metal legging of the chair as weapon to try and crack the skull. With each pound against the zombie, it screamed louder, and his muscles grew sore. He attributed this sudden loss of weakness to all the blood he lost after being bitten. He forced the chair back onto the zombie’s already severed neck and ran outside, grabbing another chair in the process. He searched frantically across the corridor for those glass casings which he identified to have trophies in them. He found one, and smashed it open with the chair. He clumsily picked out the trophy and stumbled back to the room, feeling extremely sore and dizzy.

If he was going to collapse due to blood loss, he preferred that he collapse after he was certain the zombie was dead – dead as in won’t reanimate dead and try to cut his head off dead. If there was one thing he believed true about zombies, it was that if he severed the brain, there would be no physically possible way for the zombie to control the body. He climbed the hall back to where the zombie was, relieved that it was still trapped under the chair screaming. He lifted the trophy high over his head – almost too high, as he almost tipped over – and brought it down as hard as he could, crushing the skull and brain in the process. Blood and brain bits splattered all over his feet, but he didn’t care.

It was finally over, he thought to himself. He walked down the hall back to his. Upon picking up the phone he looked at his wounds to see how much blood he had lost. He was surprised when he did not see as much of his own blood as the zombie’s. And yet… He was still dizzy, noxious even, to the point where he felt like he would… vomit?

Oh no… No… He suddenly came to a gross realization. He had been bitten. By a zombie. That can only mean one thi—He collapsed.

…

Ugh… He muttered to himself as he woke up. He looked to see a very bright, orange light piercing his eyes. What happened? He squinted and managed to recapture where he was. He was in the lecture hall, next to a pile of scrambled books. Of course I know what happened… It was all a just nightmare. He breathed a sigh of relief and stood up to look around. He saw all familiar surroundings, except for that pile of crimson liquid on the floor two flights above… And that thing resembling spattered pieces of brain… What is that?

What should have been obvious to him didn’t seem to occur in his mind correctly. Of course… That’s the zombies head… splattered into bits…

Splattered into bits? As in Megabit? Bits as in ones and zeroes? Bits? No… Bites? Bite-sized? Wait... Huh?

He stumbled over as he felt a strange pressure press against his head. It felt like it was about to explode, like someone had poured a gallon of water into his head.

A… B… C… Uh… 1… …

Consciously he was at a loss. He knew where he was, but he couldn’t quite process the situation. In his subconscious thought, however… he had realized exactly what had happened…

Feed… Feed… Feed… Feed… Feed… Feed… Feed…

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!! He screamed out loud...

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