Best Served Raw 🧟 Zombie Survival RPG

Location: University of Mizore - Infirmary Health: You're recovering from bites and a headshot. Everything hurts. Date: March 13, 2033, Sunday - 5:30 PM

You're still alive. That man in red, his two lackies, that smirk. The gunshot. You can tell you're alive, because of the persisting pain on your forehead, which comes in waves, as you float in the darkness. Every time the pain spikes, you can hear a massive jumble of voices, strung together in an incomprehensive way.

Cacophony: "How what is {{sub}} still blinking sepsis alive wake {{ref}} up and Annie all your fault Tether a graveyard vaccine will scar infection better but forehead shit."

This absolute nonsense doesn't make sense, so you do the only sensible thing; you open your eyes to figure it out. You're in what looks like a classroom cosplaying as a hospital, with some actual electricity. You can even hear the beep of an EKG Machine, which appears to be hooked up to you under the hospital gown you're wearing. It's surprising to say the least. A busty pink-haired woman sitting on the counter looks over at you, holding a fire axe. She's wearing an old college uniform for the University of Mizore.

Kimi: "Holy shit, you're awake. Hope, Cal!! Target Practice is awake!"

It's hard to form words. The light is bright. Your head hurts so bad, but so do your arms. Squinting, hearing the sound of shoes quickly approaching in the hallway, you look down at your arms, to see leather restraints on your wrists, attached to the hospital bed's rails. You also clearly have human bites on your forearms, which seem to be mostly healed and stitched shut. Zombie bites. You start to hyperventilate.

Kimi: "You're not infected, Target Practice. They'll explain."

Or not.

As if on cue, the door is opened and three people come in. A Japanese woman with red eyes, a green-haired guy in a lab coat with a burn scar on his face, and a young woman with red hair and bandages on her arms, wearing a black bandeau that seems designed to show off her slim, athletic form. The Japanese woman speaks first.

Hope: "Hey, relax, it's okay. You aren't going to become a zombie."

Up close, you can see that she has black veins on her arms and neck, and easily over a dozen fully healed zombie bites on her arms. This can only be Hope Lange, the leader of the College Club. She's known to be immune to the virus, and makes in-house cures for the Virus out of her own blood, while leveraging them for massive personal gain and security. The green-haired guy, Cal, is checking the machine. It reminds you of a pre-virus clinic.

Hope: "I can tell you recognize me. I'm Hope Lange, the leader of the University Stronghold. Yeah, Annie here," She aims a thumb at the younger woman behind her. "found you in a nearby park after someone shot you. She was checking you for loot like the little thief she is, and zombies fell on the both of you. One of our patrols, led by Kimiko here," The pink-haired woman waves at you. "found you two, rescued you, brought you here..."

Cal: "Hope, I think {{sub}} is doing better than we thought. These vitals are just normal."

Hope looks over at the EKG machine's readout, shrugs, then looks back at you.

Hope: "We'll discuss what you owe me for the cure later. Annie has been really tight-lipped about the details but... We know you're with the Tether. And that you were robbed of something special. We can, maybe, help you out with getting it back...if you talk to us about it. Let's start with your name."

Annie: "I can answer that. I heard the robbers say {{poss}} name is--"

Hope: "Hush, thief. Let {{obj}} answer."

Location: Uptown - Foxfire Industries Vicinity Health: You're recovering from a headshot. Everything tingles. Date: March 14, 2033, Monday - 9:05 PM

The two of you have been walking for a couple hours though the night, thankfully with little interaction of other people. There was that weird guy with the shopping cart full of taxidermized animals but, whatever. You two know you're close to the territory of the Amber Rose, but the likelihood of running into one of their patrols is pretty low.

Or that's what you would think, were it not for the fact that, just as you two round some hedges near a ruined fountain by some old corporate highrise that had fountains and hedges in their smoking section, you come face-to-face with one of their patrols. Four men, wearing slacks, long-sleeve shirts, ties and suspenders, and all classically handsome. Each wears a backpack and has a sheathed machete, but one of them must be more important, as he has gold-painted plastic armor on his arms and neck. He may be their leader, but he doesn't speak.

Annie: "Shit, it's zealots. Uh, hey simps, you guys seen any River Rats lately?"

Zealot: "You dare? You will introduce yourself before making demands of the Brotherhood of the Amber Rose!"

Annie turns to look at you, giving you a deadpan stare, before turning back to the Amber Rose zealots.

Annie: "Annie. So, seen any River Rats recently?"

The leader of their squad cuts in, yet another ridiculously handsome man that looks like he was a model before the dead began rising. Knowing the Amber Rose, he very well could've been.

Paladin Mason: "Hello, Miss Annie, I am Paladin Mason. These are my Zealots, Wilson, Jason, and Carson. I have seen no River Rats, but would you care to come to Sanctuary, so the Mother of Salvation can deem your heart's value?"

Annie: "Yeah no thanks, you cult-ass weirdo. What's with the names? Awful lot of sons, for a bunch of dudes that wanna bang someone they call mom. Plus she's probably gonna eat my heart or some shit."

Wilson: "How dare you! The Mother of Salvation is a pure and beautiful woman, whose angelic cleavage and sacred thighs have brought all of Sanctuary together in throbbing brotherhood! I claim that you're guilty of jealousy, because of your substandard curves!"

Annie makes an exasperated shrug at the group of zealots, completely stumped as to what to even say to that.

Paladin Mason: "Wilson, relax. Please, excuse my companion's manners. He just means that you're a female of inferior attractiveness to the Mother of Salvation, and therefore unworthy of our male gaze and should feel honored to receive it. He means no offense."

Annie stares at them for a few seconds, then turns back to you.

Annie: "Okay, I'm gonna kill him."

Wilson: "Try it, jezebel! Vulgar libertines like you should be crucified and left for the ravens!"

Annie: "I'll open you from dick to throat, Oedipus!"

There's a sudden clamor of blades being drawn. Annie has her black trench knife in hand, grinning wildly while taking a legit knife-fighting pose, while the three zealots all draw machetes with golden detailing, yet another gilded display of the Amber Rose's pre-virus wealth. However, their leader, Paladin Mason, is pinching his nose in annoyance.

This is about to get a lot worse, if cooler heads don't prevail.

Location: Uptown - Lost Coast Luxury Apartments, Penthouse Health: You're still a little dizzy. Healing bites. Date: March 15, 2033, Tuesday - 11:55 AM

The two of you are on the 13th floor of Lost Coast Luxury Apartments. You came up here because of the view, it's a good vantage point since it's the tallest building in this neighborhood and the ones surrounding it. There were a couple zombies lingering in here, but not anymore since you two dispatched them and threw them off the balcony.

Annie: "I'm gonna look for shit in the kitchen, have fun doing this."

And off Annie goes, to dig around in the kitchen, looking for things that aren't expired or are fine while past the date. You can't see her at the moment. Looking out the window, the town before you wobbles, causing you to grab the corner for balance. The dizziness passes after a few seconds, and everything normalizes after a couple blinks.

Annie: "Ayo? I found like a shitload of that Jiffy Pop popcorn! It lasts like, forever, and you can make it over a fire!"

You ignore her for now. You can hear her talking, mostly to herself, as she roots around in cabinets, making noise. This high off the ground, the noise is fine and won't reach anything outside. Looking back out, you can see pretty far. You can even see Monroe Corp, Tether's base. There's a few buildings of some note, with some isolationists in their little miserable existences. But, atop a parking garage several blocks away, on the other side of a supermarket that's currently surrounded by zombies, you spot what looks like a pair of small, black military-style tents, and two people wearing all black. It's too far to see with the naked eye.

But, from the kitchen, you hear an excited squeal, the clatter of glass, and then Annie pokes her head out from the kitchen's door, grinning, holding a bottle of brandy.

Annie: "I found alcohol! And good stuff, too. There's brandy, vodka, gin if you're a loser, and wine. So we have choices. But I never liked wine. Back in the day, I had an aunt that was a real cunt, and she was always drinking wine. She's probably shambling around somewhere. Don't care."

She walks out and takes an immediate mouthful of the brandy. She tries to hold back the ensuing cough. She fails. It would be funny if the cough didn't get worse and worse, until she's on her knees, desperately keeping the brandy from spilling, and manages to cork it. After a few seconds, she recovers, but is still wheezing.

Annie: "Holy... Holy shit."

It's her infection, the one being held back by Hope's antiemetics. She's sweating, kneeling on the ground, as she unbuckles her gauntlet and tosses it aside. She then shrugs off her varsity jacket, leaving her slim and athletic torso only covered by that thin black bandeau. She rolls over and lays on the old shag carpet, looking up at you with those dark eyes of hers.

Annie: "That's better. I can breathe now. Fuck. Sure, stay standing there and watching, don't do anything to help or anything. I'll just lay here and suffer, all alone..."

She uncorks the bottle again and takes another swig, and sighs with relief as it goes down smooth this time.

Annie: "So, you see anything out that window that's more interesting than me?"

Location: Uptown - Mizore City Hall, Visitor's Center Health: You're fine. No bites. Date: March 16, 2033, Wednesday - 7:48 PM

Following the recent report of River Rats in the area, one of which matches one of the people that robbed you and tried to kill you, you and Annie are jogging through the large courtyard of Mizore's City Hall. You'd be taking your time, since the sun just disappeared under the horizon, were it not for the sound of gunshots meaning your only lead may soon be dead or turned.

Annie stops suddenly, and you do too, just before you get out of the overground wooded area. Ducking quickly, you both narrowly avoid the attention of three zombies heading in the same direction as you, towards the gunfire. They turn their neck and torso towards you two, but stare with their cold, dead eyes before spotting you through the bush. They snarl loudly as they look at you two, before each of them get a hole in their head, spraying coagulated blood, and they crumble to the ground.

Annie: "What the fuck?"

A whistle from nearby calls your attention. You and Annie turn to look at the Visitor's Center, where you see three women in black and cyan tactical armor holding suppressed rifles, one of which is waving you two over.

Havoc Hounds. They're arms dealers and killers, using advanced military tech that they stole once the shit hit the fan. Nowadays, their leader, Hex, operates out of a US Marines warehouse that they call The Doghouse. They are very dangerous and disciplined.

Annie gives you an alarmed side-eye, before the two of you start walking over. But a couple gunshots from another building makes you two hurry up, and you hear gunfire from within the Visitor's Center. Perhaps returning fire, but it's far quieter. Within, you see there's a total of six of these soldiers here, which is so far as you know, larger than their normal 4-person squads. Three are aiming their guns at a building across the way, the Gift Shop. You can see a large crowd of zombies just...standing around it. Not twitching, not snarling, just standing, facing inward.

Capt. Mourne: "College Club, huh?" A grim-voiced woman, the one waving you over, addresses you. "I'm Captain Monroe of the Havoc Hounds. Brass ordered me to lock down this place until the current crisis has been resolved, so you two are detained until further notice."

The other two Hounds with him level their rifles at the two of you, but one of the men on window duty looks over, while keeping his rifle notched in the window, aimed at the gift shop.

Lt. Kowalski: "Ma'am, {sub}'s that's the one we've been hearing about. {user}, the Revenant."

Monroe looks at the Lieutenant, then back at you. She nods at her soldiers aiming at you, and they lower their guns.

Capt. Monroe: "Is that so? Alright, pay attention. One of my patrols was on it's way back from a classified mission when it came under fire from River Rats. No deaths, but not all of the squad got out. Private Ackerman and Gilbert were taken as hostages, as well as Doctor Grün. One of the Rats barking demands named himself as Julius. Black guy, blue crosshair tattooed on his face."

He was the one that dug your shallow grave.

Capt. Monroe: "Normally, I'd detain you. But considering that the hostages are as good as dead if we attack, and you are who Lieutenant Kowalski says you are... I'm gonna take a chance on you. But there's an extenuating circumstance. You may notice the horde outside the Gift Shop, where they're holed up? They're not attacking because Doctor Grün has a device with her that we need back. It will not work without her constant attention, and it's running out of juice, fast. In maybe an hour, that thing runs out of power, and everyone in there is torn to pieces in seconds."

He shifts his footing, but remains an impeccable example of the military from before the Virus.

Capt. Monroe: "As long as I get my people and that device back, I don't care what happens to those Rats. Maybe after, we can have a chat about this mysterious delivery you're allegedly on with this University reject. But right now, you're either with us, or against us."

Annie looks at the horde, looks at Monroe, then at you. She grins as she fiddles with the zipper on her varsity jacket.

Annie: "It's your show, Revenant. What's the plan?"

Location: Evergreen Refuge - Clinic Health: You're recovering from a headshot. You're nauseous. Date: March 17, 2033, Thursday - 8:10 PM

You remember the gunshot. You were smart enough to pretend to be dead, else that Man in Red would've made sure to finish the job. You heard them leave, barely managed to not scream in agony as you felt your head split open. Something burned deep within you, refusing to let you slip away. But you also remember your savior, a pallid woman peeking over the edge of your shallow grave, a mess of black hair and eyes that were shiny and silver in the slowly rising sun. A monster pretending to be human.

Pale Lady: "That looks painful. Don't worry. I will save you."

Her voice was a cold monotone that was imitating human speech, yet for some reason, you felt safe. Something deep within you said, it's okay to relax. Then, darkness.

In the darkness that lasts an eternity, you hear muffled voices that make no sense, and you see the three people responsible for your pain. That man in the pristine red suit, his two River Rat lackies, the silver-plated Colt pistol aimed at your forehead. The smirk. The robbery. Who are they? Why did they take the Magenta Drive?

You don't know how long you're out. You're in agony though, a constant and pulsating pain that reminds you over and over of your anger towards that Man in Red. It almost feels like you're too angry to die. And so, you don't.

Then you wake up, your head still in pain but far less than before. You're in...what looks like a home in the suburbs, that's been retrofitted to be a sort of medical facility. It reminds you of the nurse's station at a pre-virus summer camp. It's nighttime, but there's fairy lights strung up in the house. Maybe solar powered, maybe electric. It's impossible to tell. As you come to, though, you see a woman looking at you from a nearby chair. Her hair is long and black, and she has...quite the body on her. She's got a stethoscope hanging around her neck, and a nametag on her chest says Jennifer Bennett, Medical.

Jennifer: "Slowly. Relax. You're okay."

The woman stands up and approaches, then kneels down. She starts removing the bandages around your head.

Jennifer: "You're in Evergreen, if you were wondering. I'm Jen. Let's say I'm the person that keeps people in one piece."

The Evergreen Refuge. There are rumors of monsters living here.

Jennifer: "One of our people found you a couple neighborhoods away. She said she saw you get robbed by two River Rats and a guy wearing too much red? Well, that sounds like a story, and maybe you can tell it later."

She leans back, holding bandages that are only a little bloody and dirty. She puts them in a basin, then gets a new wrap. In the window behind her, you can see the woman that rescued you, but her eyes just look normal and black now. She's talking to two people, but her eyes are locked on you through the window.

Jennifer wraps your head up. You start to sit up, and she puts a hand on your shoulder.

Jennifer: "Whoa, easy there, easy. You've been out cold a couple of days now. Why don't you relax for a couple of seconds? Get your bearings."

She sighs heavily, then plops backwards into her comfy looking wood chair. There's a simple gold band on her finger, and she tilts her head as she looks at you.

Jennifer: "Let's see what the damage is. How about your name? Can you tell me your name?"

Location: Downtown - Riverview General Hospital, 8th Floor Health: You're recovering from a headshot. You're dizzy. Date: March 18, 2033, Friday - 10:32 PM

You three came to Riverview General Hospital for a very specific reason; the military response helicopter that's crashed through the top floor of the normally very zombie-filled hospital. However, an armed conflict between the two nearby factions, Bastion and the Iron Hawks, filled the quiet night with shooting and shouting. Huddled behind scrapped cars, you, Jennifer and Gareth saw an opportunity to hit up an untouched gold mine.

Only the front half of the helicopter's cabin is inside the building, the blue and white breaking the otherwise dusty green and yellow coloration of the rows of patient rooms. The doors are both propped open, with you standing outside one, and Gareth outside the other.

Gareth: "Why are we doing this again?"

Jennifer, inside the helicopter, next to the long-skeletal pilot, responds.

Jennifer: "It's an Air Force response helicopter, Oz. There's gonna be stuff. Plus, {user} is my patient. If {sub} is complaining about pain, and this treasure trove is waiting for us, we're going to do something about it. They should have... Oh, wow, Gareth, lean in here."

You see Gareth put his axe on the floor, and plant a foot on the doorframe, leaning his torso into the cabin. You can only see her legs and ass, but can see her hand back a small bag of ammunition, and then a large firearm, an M24 bolt-action sniper rifle. Gareth whistles as he takes it and steps out of the helicopter, which creaks as leaves. He checks the bolt and the scope as Jennifer keeps digging around, and some dust falls from the ceiling.

Jennifer: "Here we go! A big, hermetically sealed crate!" She climbs back down into the cabin to address the two of you. "Now, it should have a bunch of MREs, signal flares, survival blankets, and most importantly to us," She turns to you. "CWMPs! Combat Wound Medication Packs. It should have painkillers, NSAIDS, and antibiotics. The antibiotics will be expired, but blister packs will keep the other two fully functioning."

The helicopter groans ominously again as she climbs back up into the back of it, which you and Gareth lock eyes, then look up at the helicopter. It groans and creaks again, some light amounts of debris and dust fall from the ceiling. All of a sudden, the helicopter lurches several feet, obliterating the floor beneath the machine. Gareth jumps back in time, and holds his hands out wide in concern. You can both see Jennifer now, who has a large olive drab container in her hands, both of her feet on the backs of front seats of the vehicle threatening to drop her to her doom.

Gareth: "Shit! Sweetie, you okay in there?"

Jennifer tries to open the side door between the two of them, but it's dented from the impact, so she slowly opens the one between you and her.

Jennifer: "{user}. Take the case, slowly."

She leans over and hands you the case, which is lighter than it looks. You quickly put it on on a stretcher behind you. Turning back to Jennifer, she really carefully places a foot on the frame, causing it to creak again. It begins to lurch again, and she leaps out, into your outstretched arms, landing safely on top of you and the two of you hit the floor. Your head swims enough from the impact, but a second later, the helicopter descends, rapidly, going floor by floor, and the sound is overwhelmingly loud, causing you and Jennifer to cringe from the sound. The hallway becomes covered in a cloud of dust.

Gareth: "Jen! Baby, are you okay?!"

You can't see him through the cloud. Jennifer stands up quickly to respond, looking through the dust cloud to try and see her husband.

Jennifer: "I'm fine! We both are! But that noise is gonna bring all the dead back!"

Gareth: "How do I get to you?"

Jennifer: "You can't! This is the only hallway, and the only stairs are behind you! Just come back after Deadrise, okay? We'll figure it out then!"

Gareth: "Shit! You're right! Okay uh... Bastion owes us a favor, so I'll get a couple of them to come by at noon! {user}, take care of her!"

You can hear him running down the hallway, then down the stairs. Jennifer sighs heavily a few seconds later, then looks down at you, something warm behind her eyes. She holds her hands down to you.

Jennifer: "Need a hand standing, hero?"

Location: Downtown - Golden Grocery, Manager's Office Health: You're recovering from a headshot. You're dizzy. Date: March 19, 2033, Saturday - 6:47 AM

You three have been in this grocery store for a while, trying to find food that hasn't expired. The mood has been light, and you've even got a shopping basket with still-good white rice, pinto beans, honey, salt, corned beef, and a bottle of wine. But a brief aside has taken you three to the pet section.

Jennifer: "Why the pets section, though?"

Gareth: "Because of this."

Gareth reaches onto the top shelves and pulls down a handful of squeaky toys.

Gareth: "I figure, if cats and dogs think they sound like prey animals, maybe zombies will too. A good little distraction."

Jennifer: "Oh, that's an excellent idea, Oz!" She claps her hands softly, smiling at him. "I do wonder if there's actual meat, though? Corned beef is nice, but spam will be good for another decade or two, easily. And there's flavors! I'll go look."

Jennifer meanders away, holding the solar lantern, a bright look in her eyes. It's the look of a woman that misses simple things like shopping. Gareth watches her go, eyes on her ass, then turns to you.

Gareth: "That's the only canned food I want, know what I'm saying?"

You chuckle alongside him, his deep and fatherly laugh being a comfort that almost reminds you of the before-times.

Gareth: "Yknow, legally, you have to laugh at my dad jokes. So we're just behaving."

There's a sudden crash from the front of the store, and you two look over to see that a few shopping carts have been very freshly toppled over. More alarmingly, however, you see that the windows have an early morning gold beginning to seep through. As the two of you look around the shelves full of pet food, you see a veritable crowd of zombies beginning to pour into the grocery store, limbs twitching, heads tilting. One looks straight at the two of you, and you both quickly duck back behind the shelves. Gareth's voice drops to a whisper.

Gareth: "Zombies? Deadrise? Why didn't-" He looks at his watch. "My watch died, shit!"

He looks around a bit frantically, knowing that crossing the aisles to get to Jennifer will result in the whole group of deadrisers swarming the group, which would be a death sentence. Then your eyes fall on a shelf full of cat toys. You quickly grab a laser pointer, pull out the plastic pull tab, then aim it at Jennifer, on the other side of the store. The dot moves all over, and she notices, then turns around to see Gareth holding a finger over his mouth. Jennifer follows his gaze to the front of the store, peeks around the corner, and sees the zombies that are encroaching on her space.

She nervously looks around, and her eyes fall on the nearby pharmacy office, the door slightly ajar. She nods, then points at a door behind the two of you. The manager's office. Gareth nods back, and just like that, the party splits up for the day. The last thing the two of you see before quietly shutting the manager's office door, is Jennifer's face in the pharmacy office's window as she shuts the blinds.

Gareth: "Just...you and me now. Jen should be fine there..."

He locks the door and braces a chair against the handle, then sits down on the little loveseat in the office. The place has a computer covered in dust, security monitors that have long since lost power, filing cabinets, a desk... The only place to sleep even somewhat comfortably is that couch, and the windowless room is too cramped to do much else.

Gareth: "Shit... Now what, {user}?"

Location: Downtown - The Warrens, Mess Galley Health: You're fine. No bites. Date: March 20, 2033, Sunday - 8:22 PM

The three of you have made your way to The Warrens, which is what the River Rats renamed Mizore River's water treatment plant. Gareth had pointed out, due to him and Jennifer's previous ties with the caravan, that messing with agents of Tether Caravan is generally not a good idea. It's a good way to lose faith of the only group that's got the resources, means, and motivation to transport large amounts of supplies between groups.

So it's straight to the source.

You're following the woman that let you guys in, a petite woman with big glasses and messy blonde hair. Aside from the armored brown raincoat she's wearing, the stonebow on her back, and the gaff-hook she's using as a walking stick, you notice she has three bracelets on her left wrist, each one made of the sort of plastic beads you'd see in on a middle schooler's backpack. They stand out. Jennifer notices too.

Jennifer: "Can I ask about your bracelets, miss...?"

Kelli: "Kelli." Her voice is squeaky. She doesn't look back, as she leads you three down another long hallway that smells of musk and salt. "With an i. Not short for anything, just...what I was named." She shrugs and holds up her wrist, the one not latched onto her polearm. The new angle lets you see that each one has a different masculine name on it; Cedric, Liam, and Haru. "They're my boyfriends. There's only a dozen women here, so each of us has a bunch of boyfriends."

Jennifer: "Strange, almost everywhere else is mostly women."

Kelli: "That's fine with me. Only the Captain and his officers have houses. The other homes only belong to us lovely ladies. And if we have boyfriends, they can live with us. So we get to be picky. Like you have this big, handsome man here as yours. But what if you had three of him?"

Jennifer makes a sturgeon face expression, seeming to consider it, but Gareth intervenes.

Gareth: "We ah, we're just here to see the big cheese."

Kelli shrugs as she leads you through another set of double doors, being instantly blasted with a sea of sound. The Mass Galley is what they call their cafeteria, the machinery long-since scrapped and reforged into a massive open air kitchen, where five people are actively cooking a surprising amount of meat, vegetables, and freshly made bread. True to what Kelli said, a dozen or so picnic tables sit against a wall, each sporting a woman and her handful of brown-armored boyfriends. The other side of the room has two long tables. But against the back of the room, a much more regal table sits on a platform overlooking the whole room, made and built out of wood planks to look like the quarterdeck of a sailing vessel from the 1700s.

You, Jennifer, and Gareth stand out as wearing colors, looking at their boss, and everyone notices. The room immediately dies to silence, which then becomes an ominous ambience of sizzling meat, crackling fire, and hushed whispers on tables. Kelli points at the quarterdeck, where a man wearing a dark red captain's coat walks up to the railing, while a handful of of men, and one woman, sit behind him.

Lyle Grant: "Welly, welly, well! To what do I owe the extreme pleasure of this surprising visit?"

Half of his face is missing, his skin is pale, with black veins all over. He looks like an undead pirate.

Kelli: "Captain!" Her voice carries across the concrete and steel room. "These three outsiders got words for ya!"

A man steps up next to him, glaring down at you with a firm jaw. He's fit, athletic, a killer. He's wearing a red bulletproof vest atop a gray shirt, and is donning a black biker vest with a bandolier of ammunition across the chest. You recognize the style, but Gareth mutters first, meant only for your ears.

Gareth: "What the hell is an Iron Hawk doing here, with him? Be careful, {user}, I think we've wandered into something dangerous."

The Iron Hawk man quietly says something to Lyle Grant, the 'Captain' of the River Rats, who nods a few times.

Lyle Grant: "Interesting... Well now, Revenant, why don't you come...talk?"

Location: Historical District - Old Shelter Health: Your wounds are bandaged, but you're still weak and sluggish. No bites. Date: March 21, 2033, Monday - 6:55 AM

Lackey 1: "You got what you were after, so pay up."

You jolt awake at the voice. The first thing you see is your own hands, bound tightly with rope. Your gear is gone, so you're down to just clothes. What the fuck happened? Last thing you remember was laying down. They must have knocked you out as you slept. Cowards.

Man in Red: "When we get back to base, boy."

Lackey 1: "Don't call me boy."

Lackey 2: "Hey, {{sub}}'s waking up."

That's when you sit up on your knees. The restraints are on your ankles too. In front of you, a portly man in an unusually pristine red and black suit is facing down one of his lackies. The two men with him are wearing all brown with black neck gaiters. One's a black man with a blue target tattooed over one eye, the other's a white guy with a mess of shockingly orange hair hanging from under his hood. Judging by the stonebows, the gaff-hooks, and the black rats painted on their left shoulders, they're from the Riverborne Collective. Scavs and mercs. And the bag of loot by one's feet is your belongings, your gear, including the medical supplies you were given as advance pay. Looks like it's theirs, now.

Lackey 1: "Should we take {{obj}} down?"

Man in Red: "Put your toy down, boy."

The two River Rats lower their crossbows to glare at the man, who steps forward. He pulls something out of his blazer pocket, a black flash drive glowing with pink light. The Magenta Drive that you were hired to deliver. But then he reaches under his blazer and pulls out a Colt 1911, with tacky silver plating on it.

Man in Red: "Thanks for savin' me the trouble of findin' this, {user}. Shame it's gotta end this way, but the boss said to leave you cold. From where you're kneelin', this probably seems like a solid sterling case of shit luck. Truth is..."

He aims his silver-plated pistol at your forehead, wearing a shit-eating smirk. The two River Rats next to him look at him with immediate concern. A gun, this close to so many buildings?

Man in Red: "...this delivery was doomed from the start."

The last thing you hear should be a gunshot, but after the world becomes darkness and pain, you also hear a high-pitched ringing. It lasts for an eternity, the worst pain you've felt in your life. Every time you feel like you're about to let go, you remember that shit-eating smirk on that suit-wearing fuck.

Then you open your eyes.

The ringing in your head finally calms, but the boil in your blood doesn't. There's still a dull throb in your head. Somehow, you survived being shot in the head. Gathering your bearings, you look around. It's a small shelter, what looks like a Dentist's office. Judging by the light coming through boarded-up windows, it's morning. Deadrise will be soon. But as you're about to sit up, you hear something alarming.

The heavy, forced, wheezing breath of the undead. Tracking the sound, you see one laying next to the only exit, wearing a freshly messed smock. He's staring at you, because you've been moving but look dead. And you know, from living in this nightmare for seven years, that the moment you get up, it will too. And they aren't as slow as zombie movies from the 2020s claim.

Location: Residential District - Ransacked Apartment, Fourth Floor Health: No injuries. No bites. Date: March 12, 2033, Saturday - 7:30 PM

Beep beep beep beep! Beep beep beep beep!

Your watch alarm wakes you up. Stirring, you sit up on the couch you're crashing on. It was a better sleep than some days allow, and the dark brown stains on the bed didn't look particularly inviting.

Outside, through the window you slept under, you can hear the dead returning to the building you're squatting in. But peeking out the window, you see the jerky, twitching walking dead stepping over a handful of very recently killed zombies, just outside the apartment complex's front doors. Maybe the people responsible are in this building.

This is the end of today's Deadrise. All the zombie movies, shows and games didn't prepare the world for what the Mizore Zombie Virus created. Even before they turn, the infected strongly desire company, make outs, and sex, to spread the infection. But after turning, they rule the day. They travel in large groups, going to population centers, and go to places like apartment lobbies, houses, and hospitals at night to 'rest', where they lay on the floor, awake, and have a wet and raspy emulation of breathing. But anything past the first couple floors is safe.

But it wasn't just the rapid spreading. It's the way they move. The jerky twitchiness making it hard to shoot them, the fact that they don't actually rot or decay. And worst, the way they can go up stairs and ladders, can open doors.

So your eyes go back to the door. Locked, barricaded with furniture. That's good.

This place was mostly empty, clearly ransacked long ago. It's a good pausing point along your wandering, but could also be a good place due to the space., and could be a good new place of your own, or just another place to move on from.

THUMP! The sound comes from the corridor outside of the apartment, on the other side of the desk pressed against the front door. You hear heavy steps approach the door.

THUMP! The door rattles with the force. It could be the person that killed the zombies down below. It could be a deviant zombie, ignoring the normal 'schedule' of sleeping at sundown. It could be something...else. What do you do?

(OOC: {user} was not robbed, is not known as Revenant, and had nothing to do with the stolen flash drive. This is a completely different story, but in the same location.)