sorry i have to repost any way guys this is a rough draph and i am going to need help making MmCm6's book i need to no how you want it
Lol, I'm gonna try my hand at a forum game, and it's based on the forum itself (subtle jabs included). Sorry if it's too long or I make this a bit complicated.
Welcome to Forville. It used to be a lively but peaceful town, where good-natured folk expected to live contented, wholesome lives. All that changed one day, when the allure of the bright city lights and the promises of tomorrow led most of the population away. Some stayed however, as they were unmoved by what they perceived as empty glamour. Poor fools. They could only watch in horror as their beloved town turned into a nightmarish place, overrun by entities of the Underworld itself. Spectres, the emaciated souls of the departed, came in droves; searching for peace. Then came the brutish trolls, who descended from their homes high up on the mountain ranges for reasons unknown. People would disappear every other day. Loyal pets would suddenly go missing, only to return from the woods as vicious Stalkers. As the town spiraled into anarchy, the government fled, and the law was thrown out as their enforcers retreated into their station. So far, luck has been on your side; though you can't say the same for your friends. You now hear talks of new settlers accompanied by a military element, coming over to reclaim the lost town. You must survive until they come, if they're coming at all.
Rules to live By
~No Sign-ups necessary, just drop by for a visit.
~Every player must start from their homes, and must be empty-handed until they can get to the nearest building or site that could offer them tools.
~Houses can be placed on the Housing portions of the map, and must be at least 3 minutes away from any building or site.
~No massive firepower (bazookas, flamethrowers). This is a small town, so guns of that magnitude simply don't exist down here. Of course, you can make those weapons and others out of tools you've found.
~Going to the woods is suicide, and so is trying to go out of town for now. Wait for the settlers to come.
~Vehicles can be driven, but don't offer that much mobility. Broken and jammed streets will deter you from making huge progresses with a vehicle. Likewise, it is advised to not spend too much time outdoors.
~Don't stay too long in a safe zone, you might run of supplies, or get driven out as a consequence.
~Once the electricity goes out, run.
~Firearms are now available to select characters at this time.
Ghosts- The spirits of the dead. They're passive, but dangerous. Touching one or getting phased through by one would render a victim unconscious for a time, depending on the type and severity of contact. Nearly invisible under lights, save for a faint shimmer. No way to kill them, but they will flock to naked electrical fields (exposed wires and the like) and are repelled by religious relics. They are the most plentiful, and they can go through walls, but will most likely not want to and prefer entering through holes and doorways.
Trolls- 10-feet tall, lumbering behemoths. They have poor eyesight, and will rely on scent and hearing to catch their quarry. Highly aggressive, and may fight another troll if they meet. Watch out when they roar; they release a highly flammable gas that can ruin your day. They are photosensitive; their skin will burn when exposed to light, but will it take them at least 10 minutes of full-body exposure to succumb and die. Partial exposure will harm it, and will either make it flee or aggravate it even more. Sunlight works best, cutting the required exposure time to 3 minutes.
Stalkers- Hellhounds or Hellcats. Produced by ghosts phasing through ordinary pets, or through bites and scratches received from another Hellhound/Hellcat. They are excellent solitary hunters, and will maul and kill if a target is sighted. They are highly aggressive, and may also fight amongst themselves. They are deathly afraid of fire, and of religious relics, and are drawn to the smell of meat and/or blood.
Ferals- Survivors who have become detached from society. They are ruthless and cunning, and will not hesitate to kill and/or mug you when they get the chance. Do not trust them, and it's advised that you kill or incapacitate them before they do the same to you. They carry knives or small tools as weapons, as well as supplies that you may need.
Pets- Loyal animals if you choose to have one. Don't let them stray too far, or they may be lost to a creature or become Hellhounds/Hellcats. Any other animal that you encounter that isn't your pet is hostile.
Tour of the Town
House- Safe zone if properly barricaded. You will not find any supplies or weapons in your own home, having exhausted them all. Feel free to come back to your house if needed, or break into another.
City Hall (Sugtns/Disc&Deb)- Controls the electrical grid and water lines, as well as having access to communications (HAM radio). Underground area is blocked off by a ceiling collapse. Is set in the middle of town, surrounded by Jennings Park; watch out for trolls and some ghosts. (2 floors)
Mall (Misc)- Contains a massive selection of supplies and tools. Highly advised to stay away from it, as you're not the only one who's drawn to the supplies. Coming there is a bit short of suicidal. Stalkers and ghosts are plentiful inside, and ferals are found patrolling the outside.(5 floors)
Carnival (Spam)- Lights, moving machinery, and a bit of food and supplies. Stalkers and ghosts inhabit this area.
Library(N&V Qstns)- books and paper for fires, and information. Ghosts inhabit this area.
Construction site(Chnglgs)- Heavy equipment and tools. Vehicles unable to move but are still operational. Stalkers inhabit this area. (3 floors for the unfinished building)
Museum(PlyrArt)- Paint, thinner, firewood and small tools. Ghosts inhabit this area. (2 floors)
Bar(Wr&Dplo/PlyrGuides)- Safe Zone. May trade hearsay from NPC's and other players who come in. (Ask me for hearsay) Bit of food and supplies. There's a shotgun, but is unusable by anyone but the bartender, so play nice and don't ask about his glass eye. Ferals may be encountered outside, as well as trolls.
Movie House(Mvies/Mda)- Connected to the mall through the third floor; way is barricaded, but is damaged. Bit of food, and the projectors are in working order. Stalkers inhabit this area.
Police Station(RprtBgs)- Officers barricaded themselves inside. May not let anyone in, and may shoot when they see you approaching. Don't risk it for now. Holds all the conventional weaponry.
Gym/ Batting Cages(Spts/Rcrtn)- Full of equipment and weights. Stalkers and trolls outside, a few ghosts inside. (2 floors/ batting cages are on the first)
Church(HllFme)- Safe zone. Holds all the religious relics that may be found, and some firewood, but otherwise is empty. Ferals abound.
Hospital(HlpDsk)- Medicine, small tools and some supplies. Full of ghosts. (2 floors)
~Any other info about the town you may need is on your map~
The News- Outside source of information. May only be encountered 5 times a day through a radio, a newspaper or the television at the Bar. Includes periodical add-ons from me, and may answer questions you might ask.
~I'll be playing as well.
Maolain-Start: the southern housing subdivision.
Loyal pet: a Peregrine falcon
I wait for nightfall, and make a run for the church. I see a feral, armed with a balisong knife, with his back to me as I get close to the parking structure. I sneak up on him and snap his neck with my bare hands. I take the knife, as well as a day's worth of food, a lighter, and a flask filled with vodka. I hide in a nearby bush. Another feral sees the dead body and rushes over to investigate. I lunge from the bushes and slit his throat from behind. The second feral has a small spade, which I take. I quickly run to the church barricade. A minister sees me and lets me in for the night. I grab a silver cross necklace and an incense candle holder, which I keep as a staff. I go to sleep for the rest of the night.As morning rolls around, I cover myself in ash from a fire inside the church. I make a run for the mall. I stick to the shadows and to the bushes, as the ash helps mask my scent and make it harder to see me. I make it into the mall, making sure to hide in the shadows. I ditch my staff. I get a crowbar, a roll of fishing line, nails, and some other common objects in order to create a nailbomb. I also grab an external frame backpack in order to hold all of my gear.
i wake up not realizing where i am for a moment then realize im home i have nothing but an id reading MI i search the house and nothing i look outside and see a hellhound roaming around so i wait and call my pet a black leopard with blue eyes and as sweet as can be named Sheva to me she purrs for a moment and then Growls the hellhound is breaking the door apart we take off outside and head to the next house just before we get to the house we run slap into a feral before it can react Shiva jumps and clamps down on its throat breaking its neck in one smooth motion i take the knife and lighter it has on it then hurry into the house there i put the couch in the living room in front of the door and thank god its a windowless house i place a few more things in front of the doors and then surch the house i find a bottle of bleach and a bottle of ammonia with a three empty bottles i fill one bottle with bleach and one with ammonia and leave the other empty i continue to search the house and find a backpack a hand gun ammo and a holster i clip the holster to my belt and pack the ammo and few food supplies in the back pack from there me and Shiva head out of the house sticking fto the shadows we run into another feral on the way i come up behind him and break his neck then slip back into the shadows i head to the church and gather some wood as i am gathering wood i find a metal cross and necklace as well as a bottle with holy water i put the holy water in my backpack and then start a fire in the center of the room i let the wood burn to ashes and then gather the ashes i head to the front of the church and put the ashes in the last little bit of holy water letting it turn the ashes into a paste from there i collect a few more food supplies and head back outside with Shiva we head back toward the house we just came from and we run into a gost i throw some of the paste on the gost making it flee i make my way with Shiva back inside the house and i barricade us inside for the night.
15 nights. That's how long I've gone without much food. There's nothing to do but to read old books, and ponder the possibilities of survival. I fear my mind's becoming undone. I'm starving, but my house is the only haven around that I can trust to hold out. Ghosts have been hovering around since dawn in the streets, and I'm hesitant to go out, not when I saw what happened to Jim the other day.
It's about noon. The ghosts around my house are moving off, and this is my chance. I take down the furniture barricading my door, and I set out. No signs of life; good. I jog across the neighbourhood and exit out the northeast intersection. The police station's to my right, but I doubt they'll help much; after all, they came 'round town and took all the guns and supplies they can carry, saying that they're gonna fight them. But the cowards went and locked themselves in their station, and they've been shooting at anyone or anything that comes near. There's only one other place then; McCoy's. As I make my way through the cracked and broken streets, a sense of anxiousness comes over me. I haven't come across anything yet; where are they? Are they watching?
The bar came into view. It was a small place, with a certain look to it that reminded you of an old English pub. As I crossed the parking lot, I saw a smoldering corpse of a troll, lying face down on the pavement. It was an ugly sight indeed; its sallow skin bubbling under the sunlight, and large charred black patches covered its broad back. walking around it was a...crap.
The stalker, a hellhound, was sniffing around the corpse, and occasionally gnawing out little bites off of it. So far it hasn't detected me yet, probably because it's occupied with its meal. Good. I crouch under a hedge and move carefully behind it, with my eyes on the creature. It was nearly bald, with little tufts of fur sticking out of odd places around its reddish-gray, muscular body. It had deep scars on its flank. It was a fighter, and it wasn't the type of stalker I would want to mess with. I was keeping such a close watch on that stalker that when I heard a low growl coming up behind me, I almost soiled myself. The thing was not as big as the one I was watching, but it was the size of a Great Dane. Its bright red eyes showed an insatiable rabid hunger, and its mouth bared into a smile of sorts, showing a wicked set of jagged teeth. I took no chance on waiting and bolted towards the bar, but the hellhound was too fast for me. It tackled me into the ground and padded up to my chest. Game over.
The next set of events that saved my life probably took only a few adrenaline-pumping seconds. As the stalker prepared to take its first bite, the one near the troll corpse took notice, and playing up to its territorial instincts, ran up and pounced on my aggressor. They skittered over a metre to my left, and they started clawing and biting each other. I overcame my shock and scrambled up to the makeshift door in the fence that surrounded the bar. I was about to hold onto it when a stalker crashed into the fence, and the smell of burning flesh filled my nose as the animal twitched and thrashed about, finally collapsing in a heap a few seconds later, its listless eyes trained on me, dead. I was mesmerized by the sight and of the dog's eyes that I didn't realize that the other one was right next to me. It lunged, but was stopped midair by a buckshot to the chest. I didn't know how it survived that, but it collapsed and limped off into the hedges, trailing dark blood behind it.
I look up at my rescuer. It was old man McCoy himself, wielding an ancient shotgun. His glass eye reflected the light in such a way that gave it away as a fake. He reached down and offered me a hand, and I immediately took it. All he said was:
"Hey Matt. Need a drink?"
As Matt enters the bar, he sees me in the corner. My clothes are torn, I'm covered in scars, and I have a long gash across my face.
It's been 3 rough nights of running through the streets, barely still alive.
What happened to me, you ask? I got ambushed by a group of 29 ferals as I left the mall. They injured my falcon. He flew away to safety to heal. Then they began beating and slashing at me. Suddenly, an enraged troll through the streets and attacked the ferals. I used the distraction to drag myself away from the fight and into some bushes. For two days and one night, I spent my time in the bushes hiding, healing. My scent was still masked by the ashes.
On the dawn of the third morning, I dragged myself to McCoy's. There, he stitched up my wounds. I stayed at the bar, waiting for another survivor to come. The wait came to an end when Matt walked into the bar.
shelton9778-i wake up and me and Sheva exit the house and make our way to the bar we see a troll and i shoot it twice in the head and it dosnt effect it so i decide to use one of the bottles so i take the empty bottle and i feel half and half using bleach and ammonia then i throw it at the troll the bottle mixes and as i make my escape i here the ogre hit the floor then i enter the bar and see to others.
I leave McCoy's with some Molotov Cocktails, which I made using spare vodka that was no longer any good for drinking. My flask is filled with Stolichnaya, the greatest Russian vodka out there, and I have enough food and water for three days.
I come a cross a feral, who happens be the former Police Chief. He sees me, and gets ready to lunge. This feral is obviously crazed, because he lunges at me instead of pulling out his gun and shooting at me. I pull out my balisong knife, and flip it open. He lunges straight into my knife. I pull the knife upward, from his stomach into his chest.
The feral's entrails drop out, and he crumbles to the ground in pain. He bleeds out. His spirit leaves his body, and it thanks me for releasing him. It told me the story of how he became a feral. His body had been infested by a stalker parasite, which invaded his brain when he ventured into the woods. When he died, the parasite died with him.
The spirit then decided to help me in return. It entered the police station, and phased through the officers on guard duty. I took the sheriff's jacket and put on his badge, and hopped the barricade to the police station. I went to the arsenal, and picked up a SCAR-L with a dual magazine, a reflex sight, and a silencer. I also grabbed 6 cans of pepper spray, which contains kerosene and therefore is very flammable. I take off the chief's jacket and decide to spend the night. I go into the boiler room and go to sleep.
When I wake up, I see three angry officers in my face. I am chained to the boiler. The new police chief walks up to me and hits me in the face with the butt of his rifle, crippling me and sending me to the floor.
When I come to, the four officers are gone. I see my gear, just out of reach. When I am about to give up, my falcon swoops down and drops a dull machete at my side. There is only one way out of this. I swing away at my own wrist. After hitting my right arm 46 times, I finally managed to sever my right hand. Then I used the Police Chief's coat to stop the bleeding.
I gathered my gear and headed out through an emergency exit. I sprint for the hospital. I find three hellhounds and a troll blocking my way. I throw the bloodied jacket to distract them. They charge at the jacket, fighting for it. I run for the hospital. Inside, I feel the presence of hundreds of ghosts. I find a wire laying on the ground. I fray part of the wiring, to attract the ghosts. I make a dash for the supply closet.
I find a prosthetic hand, which I attach to my right arm. I also get an eyepatch to cover my eye. I find an empty room, and go to sleep for the night after first stopping in the cafeteria and stocking up on food.
McCoy dragged me into the bar, still shaken as hell, and weak from hunger. He plopped me onto a booth and left for the kitchen. I sat still with my head under my arms, just tired of it all. 5 minutes of venturing out of my house, and I get attacked by two hellhounds and beside a mutilated corpse; what's wrong with this place? I hear a plate clink on the wooden table, and I look up to see a mug of scotch and some sandwiches, put there by the smiling old man.
"Get something to eat lad, you look like hell."
"Well, I'm in hell, so it all works out."
"The food ain't free you know."
"Ah, put it in my tab."
The man smiled a little more brightly and went off. I attacked the sandwiches as ravenously as a stalker. I realize that I was being watched. A man about 20 was stealing glances at me. He wasn't as lucky as I was; he was covered in soot, and had numerous cuts and bruises, the most prominent of which was a long gash that trailed across his forehead down to his left cheek. He looked vaguely familiar. I almost said "I don't swing that way, bud" but I held my tongue and focused on eating. I don't want to pick a fight. I saw McCoy beating a radio and it momentarily came to life, broadcasting in a woman's static-y voice there was a military element of some sort being deployed to our region. We've been hearing this in-and-out for weeks, so it didn't even light a small spark of hope inside me.
Another man entered the bar, similarly shaken. I didn't pay much attention to him; it seems like everyone in town who's not dead will show up sooner or later. McCoy seemed to notice this as well, and came up to me and said:
"Listen, you can't stay here for long. I know it's safe here, but I can't keep feeding all these people for long."
"Yeah, I get it. Thanks for the grub."
"Come back anytime, Matt. Good luck."
I was a bit disappointed, but I knew he had a point. If we stayed here too long, we'll all starve. As I was standing up to leave, the lights flickered. The old man got a frightened look on his face and rushed to a window overlooking the front.
"Good, the fence's still live, but I reckon it won't hold."
I came up and looked at the fence myself. It was a high chain-link fence with razor-wire coiled on top, and a hinged section up front served as a door. I could hear the low hum of electricity running through the wires. That thing could kill a lion in a few seconds McCoy boasted. I didn't really pay much attention to him now, as I notice small distortions moving about around the fence, like mirages come to life.
"Your fence is attracting ghosts."
"Indeed they are. So long as they stay on the other side, we won't have a problem."
The lights flickered again, and died for a few seconds. In those seconds, One could almost feel heaviness of the anxiety and fear in the room. My heart was pounding, and I didn't know why. I looked at the fence and I saw some of the mirages dissipate, but there were still dozens of them, although I couldn't see them as much. The lights came on again, and the tension broke.
McCoy approached me and said shakily:
"Son, you gotta go to City Hall and fix this mess."
"They've got the power controls there; somehow it's going haywire and causing these blackouts. If you don't fix them, then we're all dead in this bar."
I hesitated. Last I saw City Hall it was overrun by ghosts and trolls. That's why the local council fled. But I knew he had a point. This was a safe zone, and if this gets overrun, we're gonna have a hard time surviving. Plus, I owed him for the food.
"Alright, but my tab's clean from now on."
He laughed nervously, then agreed. I went out and stood near the live fence. The other guys were watching me now, as if I was either the bravest guy they've ever seen or the most suicidal. McCoy reminded me that he can only keep the fence down for a few seconds for safety reasons, and I had to close the door on the way out. As soon as I hear the hum die down, I grab the door handle and scramble outside, closing the door on the way out. I didn't last long. As soon as I looked forward, all I saw was a shimmering distortion. I was hit with a head-splitting headache, and my legs buckled as I felt like I weighed a thousand pounds. Last I remember was a blurry sight of McCoy and two other guys rushing out of the fence door, with one guy dragging me back to the direction of the bar while was McCoy brandishing a vial of liquid like a priest, and the other rushing out with a knife and a couple bottles of liquor heading towards the direction of the police station. I tried calling out to him, thinking it was a suicidal and futile effort, but then I passed out.
All freshly supplied, I leave the hospital and head quickly back home. I grab my cavalry hat and a black leather jacket. I notice my house has been broken into and ravaged.
I hear something moving upstairs. I grab a box of strike anywhere matches left on a table by the door. I run outside, and cut the gas main. I then run to the street and throw a lit match at the cut line. The whole house burst into flame in a matter of seconds. The house burned down to the ground and there was nothing left but a ring of ash. Strangely, the fire did not touch the lawn.
I ran back to the bar, darting in a diagonal to confuse any stalkers or trolls watching me. I made a quick stop at the police station again, and ran into the arsenal. I grabbed an M4 assault rifle for Matt, equipped with a heat-signature scope and an extended magazine, also suppressed, as well as the dull sword I used to cut off my own hand. I dashed back to McCoy's bar, where I found Matt unconscious.
"James," McCoy said, "what the hell happened to your hand?"
I answered, "survival has its costs."
McCoy tossed me a glove, with which I covered my prosthetic right hand. We dragged Matt back into the bar for safety, waiting for him to regain consciousness. Meanwhile ghosts outside were attacking the electric fence, and it was barely holding.I decide to carry on alone, while Matt recovers. I leave the dull sword and the M4 for Matt, for when he regains consciousness.
The other survivor, who tells me his name is Shelton, opts to stay with Matt and McCoy for the time being.
"James!" McCoy shouts to me as I am preparing to leave. "You'll need these more than me!" He tosses me a small pharmacy bottle, which turns out to be filled with painkillers.
He switches off the gate for about 20 seconds, allowing me to climb it. I jump down on the other side, and make a run for Jennings Park.
The next thing I knew, I felt the strongest force that I had ever felt in my entire life impacting on my right cheek. I was airborne. As I landed, I heard a loud crunch. My rib-cage had shattered.
The ground thundered as a troll charged at me, brandishing a large wooden club. I grabbed for the pill bottle, and swallowed a small handful of painkillers.
"Wow," I thought to myself, "this stuff sure is quick-acting." The pain was gone in only a few seconds. Then I remembered the 18-foot-tall fiery troll charging at me. I saw something up in the sky, diving at an incredible speed. It was my falcon. He tore savagely at the troll's face, giving me time to run. My falcon landed on my shoulder.
"You know," I said to my companion, "I never gave you a name. After this last encounter, I think I've come up for something appropriate for you. I'll call you Avenger." Avenger screeched in approval at his new name.
I looked around, realizing that I had landed all the way in Jennings Park. A quick 360 revealed that there was nothing left of the troll but a pile of ash. I found a patch of shade under a silver maple tree and laid down to rest. I knew that there was nothing I could do on my own. I tore off my undershirt and ripped it into shreds, using it to bandage my torso. I settled down to wait for Matt, and possibly Shelton, because I was too weak to carry on alone.
As i deside to stay with matt for a while till he is able to walk on his on and so i wait it out with no weapon and my companion sheva sits there i realize that she is one of my closets friends she has been with me before i moved to this town for the summer and she was here with me when all this started as i sit there in that bar thinking of what to do i hear a roar of a horrible creacher i can only think oh no james i remember he left out on his on a little while back for the park i automatically grab the sword and some supplies and rush out telling sheva to come we take of for the park and see james under a burch tree he says he had to move from tree to tree crawling because of ghosts i tell him that i heard the roar and braught supplies he thanks me and i tell him that i will help him get back to the bar i help him up on sheva and we work our way through the shadows coming apon a hellcat it turned and attacked as it attacks i use the sword when i fall out of the way to stab it in the side i then go and i cut off its head from there me sheva and james make our way back to the bar and i barricade the window that we left open to get to james.
I was apparently shivering violently. Then a sudden warmth washes over me, and I come to like a man fished out of water; gasping and gagging for air. A hand pats my back; I tense up at first, but then a familiar voice called up to me, sounding as if coming from the bottom of a well. It was ethereal, and sounded gracefully sing-song and feminine.
The gentle voice was abruptly replaced by a gruff bark with an with a hint of an Irish accent. I regain some strength and try to stand up, only to have my legs fail me and collapse on the floor. My ears were ringing, and my sight was fuzzy and distorted. After a few moments however, I regain my senses and I see McCoy sitting in a bar stool, with a mug in his hands and a scotch bottle behind him on the counter. He was clearly amused at my predicament, as he was trying hard to suppress a smirk.
"Maybe I should keep a ghost or two in'ere; those things get 'em drunks on their asses faster than brandy."
I roll my eyes as he offers me a hand and the mug. After I get up, he goes off behind the counter and pulls up some food, a couple water bottles, a worn-out backpack, a small pocket knife, some ammo magazines and the most decked-out gun I've ever seen. There was a rusty machete leaning against the counter I had my eyes on, but I didn't ask for it.
"Here lad, these things are compliments of the drunken idiots who like to give me presents on the way out, and this here rifle is from a man who wishes you well. The rest of them went on when you we're out cold."
"Heh, didn't stay long enough to get my number."
He and I shared a chuckle, but he held my gaze and it quickly turned serious. I then notice something: the lights were off. I look at my watch: it read a quarter past two. There's not much daylight left. He must've noticed me looking at the dead lights.
"Yep, been down since noon. Better get going, if you want to help out. Come back here for a drink once you're done."
I nodded silently, knowing full well that I may not come back here for a while, if I come back at all. I wonder if the old man's thinking that as well. I finished off the drink, turned and passed through the doors, right into the glare of the sunlight. Ah! It blinded me at first, which was odd. The ghost's effects still haven't worn off fully I reckon. I pass through the fence without trouble, and feeling a bit of dread as I look at the dead wires. They won't hold out against a bunch of ferals, let alone a troll. The sun's perched on the tip of the mountains behind me; I gotta make this quick.
I felt like I was in an action movie, jogging well-armed through cracked and pitted roads in an apocalyptic world, going to some suicidal goal. The ways were clear for now, save for the occasional shadows I see behind houses and debris to either side of me, which promptly disappear as I turn and face them. I hear the faint sounds of a struggle and roaring behind me, and it seemed like it was coming to the direction of the bar. I hope the old man can survive long enough. City Hall was right in front of me now, surrounded by Jennings park. It was a mess; the manicured lawns were now growing wild, with garbage, debris and god-knows-what strewn about. To my immediate left I see a mutilated corpse of a man, propped against a car with a broken bottle in his hand and a look of pure terror in his face. If that wasn't an omen of things to come, then I dunno what is. I search the body for anything useful. Finding nothing of value, I proceed through the parking lot, the gun trained straight ahead. The occasional rattle and clunk of metal set me on edge and had my gun pointing at various directions, but nothing so far popped up to challenge me. I reach the park limits, marked by a low fence. I hop it and proceed through the park, wading through debris and thick grass that went up to my knees. It was so close now. And on that optimistic note, my luck ran out.
A Hellcat the size of a cougar bounded up to me from its feeding spot near a corpse, its lean yet mangy body leaping up with alarming speed. It would've gotten me too, if not for the rifle. I brought it up on instinct, and put several holes in its chest. It crumpled to the ground, and before it could recover, I drilled a hole right between its eyes. I was frightened now, looking around frantically with my gun trained. My hands were shaking, and my heart felt like it was trying to bust through my ribs. Seeing nothing, I start make my way again to the Hall, when I hear a taunting 'Hey! You!' calling out to me from to my left. I turn and I see a broken down car, crudely barricaded with rusty corrugated steel panels at its sides, and its windows barred in with steel rods taken from the fence. At the weird fortress'es base were three crude cages made of more corrugated steel and what looked like parts from a chain-link fence, and were weighed down by about five cinder blocks each. One was empty, but the other two held a stalker each: another Hellcat and one Hellhound, both struggling and gnashing against the cage. It was an intimidating, yet somewhat interesting sight to behold. The owner of the taunting voice came up through the armoured sunroof of the car, and right then and there I realized he was a feral, and he was clearly unhinged.
The guy was a scrawny specimen, who wore a grimy purple vest over a much dirtier shirt, all of which were tattered and shredded by huge claw marks. As I approached (cautiously), he looked at me with a detached smile through his unkempt beard.
"Yeah, you. Yer a funny feller."
"Speak for yourself bud."
"Ya kill' one of mah pets back 'ere"
'Yep, and mah other ones won't be too happy about that..."
I sense that the stalkers were uncomfortably near, shaking and growling away angrily against their weak cages.
"Listen bud, I dunno what you're trying to pull, but-"
"No, ya listen here BUD! Ya killed my baby! Now you're gonna pay, with some chow for her buddies over here!"
"What the hell are you talk-"
The strange man descended into the car, and I head fumbling and metallic clunking from within. I didn't want to stick around to what would happen next; something about being stalker chow didn't quite appeal to me. The doors to the cages began unlatching, and the stalkers inside were thrashing about more violently, hunger and hatred emanating from their red eyes. I didn't want to take chances, so I took aim and shot. One hit the Hellcat right on its left temple, and it collapsed immediately. The dog however, I missed completely; it bounded off the cage and lunged at me. It took me down, but not enough to disarm me. I took it up and looked it straight in the eye as I smashed the stock of my rifle against the beast's face, and as it recoiled, I started pumping rounds into it. I wasn't counting, but I put in somewhere between ten and twenty-five rounds into that thing. Good thing my benefactor had provided me with an extra magazine, because I could almost hear the clicking of an empty chamber as I was finishing up. I got up and kicked the body repeatedly, screaming and yelling profanities at it as I let my frustrations and insecurities out. In my blind rage, I barely noticed the bottle shard whizzing past my face, and when i did, I turned to see the ragged man out of his car, and holding a mean-looking combat knife.
"Ya killed them! Ya demon! Ya killed mah babies!"
"Listen here, bud. First of all, screw you, you brainless feral psycho! Now that's over and done with-"
"Ya killed them! Ya'r gonna pay!"
He lunged at me. He didn't get far as I pumped two rounds into his chest, and he fell face-first into the grass, dead.
I wasted too much time. The sun was nearly setting, and the growls of trolls and stalkers livened up the cooling air. I had no choice but to make camp for now. I clambered up the the car roof and set myself down. The interior was cramped, and it smelled of an overpowering scent of ale, sweat and blood that's been left to ferment in this cramped space. I settled in and took out a pack of crackers, and left the sunroof door open a bit to let the air in. Stalkers would be coming by soon for the bodies, and as soon as the sun sets, trolls will come out of their hiding places and hunt. I found it funny that I was thinking of the old man at his warm and cozy bar and what his odds are, when i was stuck in a tinfoil fortress in the middle of Helltown itself.
I wake up, dazed. I'm in pain, and my ribs are a mangled mess. My memory is mostly gone. I feel bone fragments moving under my skin. There are two men stitching my wounds shut and bandaging my body. I have a flashback to the fight with the colossus of all trolls.
I remember that a man needed my help, back at City Hall, but I can't remember his name. I try to get up, but the two men push me back down.
"Wait," the second man tells me. You are not ready yet to go anywhere yet." He seems to be an average sized man, late teens to early twenties. He seems very familiar. His name comes back into my mind as if a whisper....
I look back to the first man. I notice his Irish accent and his grayed hair. The name McCoy comes back to my mind.
I lay for two more hours, watching a giant black jungle cat, laying by my feet. Avenger is perched on the bar table behind, watching over me.
As soon as they finished stitching my injuries, they bring me to a room upstairs in the bar. They leave me to there to rest. I wait until night, and I sneak out of the bar after I pick up all of my gear.
As I get outside, I find a dead feral laying with a large combat knife. He has two holes through his back. I take the knife, walk over to a tree, and snap off a bench. I take out my roll of fishing line and fasten the end of the tree limb to the handle of the knife, fashioning a spear. Up ahead I see smoke and a faint glow. I realize that it's a camp, and I stumble my way to it.
Transfixed by the beauty of the flame, I lumber on, ignoring my surroundings. Suddenly I hear a low growl, followed by a hiss. I turn around and see a small. I look up and see Avenger circling overhead; he's obviously hungry.
"Avenger, dinner." I whispered. My falcon dove down at a speed of 150 miles per hour, which was slow for him. He was obviously starving. He picked up the hellcat, which was hissing like mad. He flew up high, and dropped it on the ground below. Avenger enjoyed a quick meal and we kept going onward toward the camp.
Stalkers and ferals start edging toward me. I pull out my lighter and a can of kerosene pepper spray from the police station, I create an improvised flamethrower. The ferals near me all flee, the stalkers charge, only to get their eyes pecked out by Avenger.
Using my spear as a staff to support myself, I finally stumbled into the camp. A man looked up from the fire at me. He pointed a gun at me.
"Stay where you are!" He shouted, "I can see your heat signature!"
"Easy there fella," I replied. "I'm the one that gave you that gun. Need a hand? I have extra ammunition."
I woke up with a start. It was already six, and the stars are taking their positions in the sky. As I lay in the car seat, I could hear the calls of the creatures; stalkers howling and yipping in the distance, ghosts whispering and crying silently as they passed, and even trolls grunting about. I never felt so fearful, so insecure and so lonely as I did now, alone in a crude fortress surrounded by hordes of those who want me as a meal. I hear new noises: sounds of fighting and grunting, screaming, and the unmistakable screech of a hawk. I look up to one of the windows facing the front and I see the guy at the bar earlier, his scarred face scrunched in concentration as he directed a plume of fire in a wide radius, driving ferals and stalkers away. The hawk occasionally swooped down and pecked at the stalkers' faces, gouging out flesh. As the stalkers realized there was no easy meal to be had here, they focused their sights on the fleeing ferals, and amongst themselves. They turned 'round and padded off to the darkness. The screams followed shortly after.
I shifted my attention to the man, who was now visibly weakened. He was holding onto a pole with a sharpened end, about to double over in the middle of a field of soldering grass and small, scattered flames. It was a pitiful sight, but still, I had to be cautious. I uncovered the hatch and peeked up from the sunroof, gun trained on the man. A large hawk swooped down on the ground beside him, and was now watching me intently.
"Don't move! Stay where you are; I've got locked on and I WILL shoot!"
"Easy there feller, that's my gun you're using, and I've got clips for it."
"I'm quite offended by that sir. I may look like a feral to you, but I most certainly am not one."
"How about the hawk?"
"Oh, this here's Avenger, he's-"
A low, resonating growl echoed throughout the park. Trolls.
"Listen here bud, if you wanna live, you have to come in here, NOW!"
"Ugh...AH! I can't-"
He finally doubled over and collapsed on the grass. Ugh. I stepped out of the car-fort and moved towards him, my gun trained on him, but my eyes were darting around looking for possible assailants. I reach the man and surprisingly, he didn't try to stab me or anything; but it was probably because he was barely conscious. I had to drag him back and lift him up to the hatch, where he fell into the interior with a resounding thump and "OW!". As I started to climb up however, something large knocked me back.
I fell to the ground hard. My eyesight blurred as the air got knocked out of my lungs. I got up wheezing, and my vision refocused on the ugliest thing I've ever seen. A giant it was, 12-foot tall, and its sallow thick hide was covered by an assortment of gruesome scars and burns. Its bloodshot eyes glinted maliciously in the firelight. It held up a sinewy arm as thick as a tree trunk, and brought it down. I barely dodged it, and as it raised another arm, I grabbed my gun and started firing at it. It was no use; the bullets bounced off awkwardly against its forehead and chest, and they only served to annoy it further. I had to get back to the car-fort and wake the guy up to help me. I scrambled towards the fort, dodging another blow. Almost there! I reached the corrugated panels. I threw my gun in and prepared to climb up, but I was knocked down by a swipe to the legs. Pain surged up my legs as my ankles twisted in odd directions and as my knees buckled, and I fell to the ground screaming.
My hand hit something cold, and I heard the troll cry out in anguish. I opened my eyes to see that I've hit a flashlight left there, and the light from it was hitting the troll in the shin, where the toughened skin started to bubble and burn. It turned its hateful eyes on me one last time and let out a horrible screech, in a note unnatural for a creature of that size. It then started smelling like rotten eggs, and that's when I realized what was going on and bolted up, the pain seemingly giving way to the urgency of survival. I only had enough time to scramble up the roof and jump in the car when the fireball erupted, blasting searing hot air into the interior from the open roof. After it passed, I looked out to see that the troll had gone.
My vision started getting blurry again as the pain surged back full force, and it's all I can do to reach up and shut the hatch, before passing out.
I look up at the ceiling of the car, with no memory of how I ended up inside of it. I see a man laying in the front seat, not moving.
I check his vitals. He's unconscious. I sit around, waiting for him to regain strength. At this point it is obvious that neither of us can do anything alone, being in weakened states.
I sit and wait, while Avenger flies overhead, keeping an eye out for anything hostile approaching.
I see a feral approaching the car. Suddenly he falls forward onto his face, unconscious. A ghost must have phased through him.
as i sit in the bar waiting for one of my friends to return we are ambushed by ogres and my friend and his bird appear but i am not able to do anything as my head is smashed in sheva gos to my friend and she becomes his pet now unable to die as my immortal soul pass's on to her.