Pie:
OOC- now everyone has a sob story. Jeeze, I used one and now everyone is doing it. It's all the rave!

You're not referring to me are you? I has excuse: Didn't read your posts. My first post for this thing was on page ~25. Besides the 'Can I join?' one.

Pie:
OOC- now everyone has a sob story. Jeeze, I used one and now everyone is doing it. It's all the rave!

OOC: Dude, mine was planned when I made my character. It's even partly mentioned in the bio!

I was just stating an observation, no need to give excuses.

Pie:
I was just stating an observation, no need to give excuses.

...Well, excuse me... Whoops

OOC: Maeror's sudden sob story makes me suspect him more really... "Uhh, they're accusing me, quick! Think of a dead loved one!"

Gremlin growled and banged his head against the wall. "Here we go again then!" he muttered sourly "might as well just play Russian roulette and be done" he stood up and walked out. "Of course we need to deal with the killer!" he snarled to himself "But we have nothing but half formed ideas to be throwing around like knives!" He burst out onto the roof, ignoring Johnny, and leant against the wall staring outwards.

OOC: Are we just waiting for Galt, or does anyone want to stop themselves from being lynched?

Johnny was sitting with his back leaning against the wall when gremlin stormed out. he wasn't bothered much, Gremlin had always been friendly towards Johnny, well as friendly as a crazy person could be. They sat in silence for a large portion of time, well into the sunset, darkness loomed over the small fort, the two men sat silently, watching the glow of a fire in the distance, the smoke rising slightly over the full moon. Johnny sighed, making the first noise between the two of them, Looking at the moon, "It's a shame really...That so much destruction can be going on, yet the earth is still a beautiful place." Johnny muttered, but that's all that was needed, the air was deathly still.

"Look at how the moon shines, it makes me feel almost... free... Free from the clutches of death, free from the arguing...from the fighting..."he continued, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he spoke.

"But alas, I am not free, for even confined in these walls, we are a danger to our selves, is our survival even viable anymore? I mean, whoever is killing us off is doing it one by one, for whatever reason." Johnny breathed, the cool night sky misting his breath slightly.

Not expecting an answer, Johnny stretched his legs, pulling the scope out of the rifle he had pilfered from the now abandoned mall, Putting it to his eye, he scanned not the ground, but the sky above him.

"The stars are pretty tonight my friend." he whispered, swiveling the knobs and dials of the scope in an experimental fashion.

When he got no response, Johnny sighed again.
"here, See for yourself, even if it is only a short reprieve from the chaos that consumes your mind." he smiled as he motioned the scope towards gremlin, waiting for a response.

Larenxis:
OOC: Are we just waiting for Galt, or does anyone want to stop themselves from being lynched?

So, do we all cast in our votes or something, or does Galt decide from the general mood of our posts?

stompy:

Larenxis:
OOC: Are we just waiting for Galt, or does anyone want to stop themselves from being lynched?

So, do we all cast in our votes or something, or does Galt decide from the general mood of our posts?

OOC: As soon as the murder happens you can vote whenever.

Gremlin smiled, and took the scope. He peered through it. "It comforts Gremlin, actually." he replied "That the world is still a beautiful place. Perhaps then, when we are gone, there will be others to enjoy it, and care for it better than we have." He snorted "perhaps they will be able to look after each other, too." He continued to survey the stars. "Perhaps we will die. What of it, asks Gremlin? We are specks on a mote of dust, no more. That comforts Gremlin too. It's meaningless, so how can we fail at life? Gremlin is not afraid of death, for whatever may lie on the other side, surely it is but another adventure?" he shook his head. "Gremlin wishes to catch this killer, do not doubt. But still, if we lived life for living, without fearing death, Gremlin feels we might think a little clearer and this would not be such a problem." He handed pie back the scope.

Johnny smiled a little, it was ironic that the only truly crazy man out of all of them was saying the wisest things Johnny had ever heard. Accepting the offered item, johnny gazed into the sky once more, thinking of the words just spoken.

"Gremlin... Is it natural for me to be afraid of death, for me to fear the inevitable, The encounter in the mall, the encounter in the control tower, I was afraid, Afraid of dying..." Johnny said softly, lowering the scope and resting his hands in his lap. "I am afraid of what will happen, what if there isn't another side, what if we just...cease to exist...? I'm frightened... Of the unknown..." Johnny drifted off at the end, his voice toning to a whisper.

"but perhaps... Perhaps it is for the better, Perhaps whoever, whatever replaces me will do a better job than I have done. The world will still turn, the wind will still blow and the universe will keep existing once i'm gone, I know that, It's just... Well... I don't know and that seems to be the problem." he continued, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

"This killer...what would be their motive, why would they go to such lengths to destroy us, Surely it would have to be a damned good reason..."Johnny sighed, whatever the killer's motive was, they were no closer to finding out as they were no closer to riding the world of this terrible infection.

More lynching!
----------------------------

"Sob story or not," Galt growled, "a spook is still a spook. Emotional manipulation is surely within their repertoire of tricks. I'm not going down sobbing for the man with a gun to my head." Maeror looked up at him, dismayed that Galt still harbored doubts. The face that met Galt's was not that of a fearful man, but of a criminal who'd been awaiting execution for too long. Galt grabbed the tired man by the collar of his shirt and jerked him aside. The others watched with satisfaction as Maeror was dragged outside.

The night sky was illuminated by the spotlights still working in the base. Galt's cigar fidgeted in his mouth as he kicked Maeror to the ground. Johnny and Gremlin watched from the tower, surprised at the outburst.

"Me thinks, the officer has gone a bit mad. Not quite the gentlemen anymore." Gremlin said, looking through the scope.
"The man's got a quota, Gremlin, he lets someone live, the group gets antsy. This situation just makes things weirder in groups." Johnny replied.

Through the crosshairs, Gremlin saw Maeror kneeling on the ground, his one arm behind his head. His face looked up to the sky. Behind him Galt drew his pistol and raised it. Gremlin saw Maeror's lips move in some bizarre form of last words.

"Come on, Galt, do it. I'm sick of dealing with this." the condemned man said. "Just let me go home."
"Playing the victim will get you everything, Maeror. If your wife really exists, tell 'er I said 'hi', you damned spook."

Galt cocked his pistol and held it to Maeror's head. His thumb cocked it as his index finger drew back. Maeror slumped to the ground, a half-mask of his face still remaining intact. The hand on the ground still clutched the picture of his wife, blood began to seep over the photo.

As Maeror kneeled, he looked back at the gun aimed at his head. He half-hoped all those crappy romance movies she'd dragged him to were true, and that he'd see his wife beckoning or something.
Nothing. Just a cold, emotionless gun barrel. As the trigger went back, he finally remembered that song. It played in his head as the gun fired.
Home...we're coming home...again.

"Goddamn it, Galt."

Al's heart was racing a mile a minute. "Sob story or no, we didn't have to kill the bastard! What's gonna happen if I start talking about Manhattan? You gonna shoot me? What if Laura started talking? You gonna shoot her? Hell, what if the Gremlin finally started talking?"

His fist shook a little. "There's power in numbers, Galt. It would've been better to put him in solitary confinement and just waited. Now?" He started breathing erractically from the biting anger in his voice. "Now I just have a VERY bad feeling that it's not over. I need to go sit down..."

"Power in numbers? He'd have killed us all. You saw what happened to Dan and Rob. We don't have the men to keep up a prison here. The fact of the matter is that he's dead and we're safe. So long as we're not overrun by the undead, we can survive here."

Laura went over to Al and put her hand on his shoulder. "It'll be alright, Al. You heard Maeror talking; it was as much as a release as it was a consequence. Even if Galt was a bit... enthusiastic it doesn't mean he didn't do the right thing. I don't like the uncertainty either, but there are no experts to call in, nobody to show us the way." She slid along the wall to the floor, and crouched there. "No guidance when we need it most."

Gremlin sighed. "No, he would not need a damn good reason. Methinks it all stems from survival. A job to pay for food, a job to kill the survivors. Or, as you just saw, a mad desire for safety that consumes everything, including life." he cracked a wry grin "So, yes it is natural to fear for your survival. Your life now is the only thing you can be sure of, it makes sense to cling to it. But Johnny." He turned and looked the man in the eye. "It is a very short life in the scheme of things. Whatever you do, my friend, never allow your desire to make it as long as possible pollute the whole thing. At the moment of death, Gremlin thinks it would be better to look back on a short life worth living, than a long life of suffering and evil, yes?"

OOC: Thank you very much for killing me in a stylish way. Sorry for not responding for so long, but the works just been too much.

It has been an honour to play with you all.

OOC: we do stylish in a big way round here. Well played mate, and congratulations on making such an interesting character!

A shiver went up Rain's spine as the gun fire eechoed in the distance. 'I did nothing to stop it, but I don't care. Is that a bad thing?'

Stompy heard the shot, and looked down, at the floor. "Damn, I didn't know these guys killed..." Stompy muttered to himself. He hoped that the killing would stop now. It would be nice to just survive, he thought. All that was needed to wipe out those... things.

Singing Gremlin:
Gremlin sighed. "No, he would not need a damn good reason. Methinks it all stems from survival. A job to pay for food, a job to kill the survivors. Or, as you just saw, a mad desire for safety that consumes everything, including life." he cracked a wry grin "So, yes it is natural to fear for your survival. Your life now is the only thing you can be sure of, it makes sense to cling to it. But Johnny." He turned and looked the man in the eye. "It is a very short life in the scheme of things. Whatever you do, my friend, never allow your desire to make it as long as possible pollute the whole thing. At the moment of death, Gremlin thinks it would be better to look back on a short life worth living, than a long life of suffering and evil, yes?"

"I suppose it's better to live a life worth living... if that makes sense...?" Johnny replied stumbling to grasp the topic completely.

"I hope the killer has been killed, Ironic no? And If he hasn't, than I feel sorry for that poor man." Johnny smirked, hoping that the killer had indeed been found, but at the same time thinking about the now dead man. Sitting back, he gazed into the sky at the moon, smiling slightly inspite of all that had happened, The moon comforted him.

Gremlin nodded "That would be the short of it, yes." He chuckled. "And why the hell do people keep asking Gremlin if they're normal?!" he laughed. "We can hope it was the killer. I did not like Maeror."

"People ask you in the same way they check their face with a mirror, Gremlin."

"Well," Laura said awkwardly, "what now?"

"I'm gonna go check the supplies," Al grunted. "If we're right and Maeror was the culprit, then we'll need to start packing up for the Reddeker Line. But that's a pretty big 'if'," he admitted as he walked out of the room. "Anyone's free to help out if they've got some time on their hands."

Larenxis:
"Well," Laura said awkwardly, "what now?"

"I guess we go on with living and surviving. What would you do in a post apocalyptic waste land? Survive and breed?"

He passes a sly glance at Laura.

"I was kidding! In all seriousness, there isn't alot we can do. Just try and build up the defences. Maybe I can reaserch more on the 'zomnbies.' I'm no scientist but maybe I could learn something."

"Need a lab assistant? These walking corpses are interesting."

"Yeah sure. I don't know what we could encover, but I guess we can see."

Hearing blackadvent's request, Stompy, eager to forget about the recent events, went to balckadvent's side, and inquired into anything he could help with.

"Right, what condition do you want the bodies in? We have the cremated, the curb stomped and the odd miscellaneous variety."

OOC: Not sure if we burned them but I think there was some talk about it.

"Jeeze, I don't know. Maybe find the best... looking one. I want to see if there's anything inside it controlling it somehow. Perhaps an insect or bacteria. I saw a head stare at me once. It didn't have a body but it still was stareing. If there's any head that wasn't crushed I could use that. I'll go get my things. Meet me in the imfirmery."

As Rain walked off he couldn't help but feel like Frankinstein. It was a degrading feeling. It should never come to this, but curiousity killed the cat.

A few hours later, Johnny was looking through one of the numerous lockers that resided in the barracks, or what was left of it when he came across a journal. The date on the cover was faded beyond recognition, but the pages were almost blank, it had hardly been written in. The way the journal was written seemed oddly familiar to the young man, the dots on the I's the crosses on the T's, it all seemed like he had seen this writing before. Reading the first few pages, Johnny concluded that the the journal belonged to an S.Pandera. Johnny skimmed the pages until he came across what looked as if to be the last few entries that this Pandera had written, the writing was messy and seemed to be rushed and the date was smudged into an unrecognizable blur.

Seventeen days after my first contact with the outbreak; The officer in charge of my platoon was flagged down with the infection today, a cut from a partial of wire was enough for the infection to get in, that's what they are calling it, an infection. I don't know how long we will last, our supplies are abundant, but there is speak among the men that the government is covering something up, something big. I can hear the choppers coming and going, men shouting orders. The officer that was infected hasn't been seen since. Some men are saying they heard him pleading for his life, others say he was taken into the lab and dissected for research. Even though this has happened, I have not lost hope of a rescue effort, as long as I am loyal to the USA, the government will not abandon me.

Johnny's breath caught in his throat, it was painful to swallow for a few seconds. Even though this man had known how serious this outbreak had been, he had still remained faithful and loyal to the country he served. Flipping the page, Johnny saw that there were another two entries left, the dates were not even printed on these entries, the man seemed to date them by the number of days they had been in lockdown from the rest of the world because of the outbreak.

Thirty days after contact; The men are getting edgy, they seem to have lost all hope. We lost a whole platoon today, they had run from the nearby fields all the way to the gate, the infected in tow. Men armed the gates, not to let them in, but to keep them away. I could hear them screaming as the crazed civilians chased them down. The men had no choice, I can still hear the screaming, over and over. The thump of fists on the gate, the sound of machine gun fire rattling into the horde of infected. It is becoming enough to cause a waver in my resolve, I am determined to live and see this through. Even now I can hear the men sobbing, they have lost all hope. I fear they will not come for us. This morning a man shot himself, maybe it is the only way out?

By now johnny's hands were shaking, his eyes scanned the frantic scribbles, holding his breath, he plunged into the next entry, the final entry.

Forty-Five days after first contact.
There are only a handful of us left. Men yelled and barrowed towards the choppers as it was announced that we shall be left behind. Some decided that the cold barrel of a gun was a better answer, those that did not shoot themselves were shot as they tried to commandeer the only means of escape. I'm afraid that this will be my last entry, I sit, listening to that coward of a bastard tell us that we are brave and that our country is proud over the shortwave, men seemed to have accepted their fate, they stare with cold resolution, their eyes empty of all emotion, I can tell they are empty on the inside. Friends hug friends, Brothers say goodbye. All I have is this picture of my wife, I have it in a locket around my neck. There is no hope for us left, the men are talking about moving everything to the control tower, they have packed no food, we don't expect to stay long. I fear that my resolve has broken, my hope gone and my faith for the world diminished. For those that read this, I hope you take our actions to mind, Perhaps you can do better than I have in life. I do not fear death's embrace, they say it is just another journey in life that everyone must take.
There is no hope for the human race, we have been forsaken, by the government, by the world, by ourselves. Do not forget me, but remember me as the man who still dreamed and hoped of a better future.

Johnny's head had now sunken and bobbed lowly on his shoulders, the tattered and dusty book limp in his hands until it tumbled onto the barracks floor, Tears falling onto the cover.

"We are doomed..." Johnny whispered to himself, the words repeating in his mind.

Picking up the book, he read the last line again and again,
Do not forget me, but remember me...
his eye's glinted with a sudden and ferocious determination, without faltering, he crouched and picked up the book. It was this mans wish for a better future, his last thought was that of the greater good. Johnny was determined to make a difference, and if not that, then at least document the actions and change of others.

OOC- hello? Guys? It's been a day and no one has posted a thing...
Guys???

OOC: Well I went to post and received Post (geddit?) Traumatic Stress Disorder from your gargantuan post.