boomercharged.net

Warning: Lack of pics up ahead! Partly because I haven’t imported L4D stuff into my GMod just yet (if anyone wants to tell me how to, please do), and partly because I can’t come up with anything that would be appropriate. This story may feel a little incomplete/faulty/Ayn Rand. Note that I just decided to post it anyway, without even more revisions, since nothings really been coming up here. Also, sorry Nalfang. Didn’t get back to you on that XP.

He didn’t away want to tear people to shreds, or disembowel innocent bystanders, or leap from rooftop to roof top yowling out freakish sounds that couldn’t be identified as any word in the English dictionary. Okay, maybe that last one, but point is, he used to be a normal member of society, much like you. (Not me. XP)

A college kid at Carnagie Mellon University, he enjoyed a decent academic career of mostly A’s and B’s, an easy job that covered the rest of his tuition, a strong social life with a few very good friends, and the free running club that he presided over. He had an interest in a girl who lived in the next dorm over, but never really took the time to get to know her all that well. She had ended up with depression last he heard…

It just so happened that, while tossing about one day, he had heard about Fairfield from a friend. The massive city with a wide variety of terrain and obstacles, where policemen were too busy dealing with real crimes to care about “silly” little jumpers. Rooftops galore, all with interesting structures, and several under-construction, i.e. even better. A collection of open buildings, especially parking lots, with interesting architecture designed by a collection of art and engineering majors from Fairfield Institute of Technology. It was the perfect site. Deciding that it would be a good change for his team, he planned a trip to be covered by the school. For two weeks, it would be, as they explored this marvelous city. They arrived in early October, enjoying the sights and sounds of the fair city, and of course, running around like the Prince of Persia. This mostly occurred in obscure, out-of-reach, deserted areas. Not that any of them minded.

A week into the program, he started feeling nauseous, and too unwell, as some of the citizens were. They were in an empty parking lot, on its 8th floor, but where he would feel ecstatic at other times, he just felt miserable here. Blurry eyed and having too much of a migraine to pay attention, he drove back from practice to the hotel that they were staying in, on the advice of his newly found friend Louis, and went up the back entrance and elevator to find a few of the members of his club lying in the hall, all pale and white as snow. None of them would respond to his calls, at least, not with anything other than grunts, moans, and the occasional lisp. Curious, he approached Josh last, only to see the white eyes before his friend attacked him. Fighting off his “sidekick,” he tried communication, but it was all in vain. In the brawl, Josh was knocked out the window, down eight stories, onto his own car.

Ahh nuts.

Josh had inadvertently ripped off his right sleeve. Closer attention brought to him that his upper arm muscles were swollen and inflated. Only when he noticed this did he start to feel it. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it did bug him somewhat. He felt up his quadriceps and found them to be the same. He rolled up his left sleeve to find the same thing.

This is getting too weird.

Bleeding, with scratch and bite marks covering him, he went down to the lobby, empty. Wondering where the few people had gone, he tried the phone. No good. He went outside onto the streets. A couple of people were fighting each other, several were back up against a wall with their hands on their head. One guy approached him.

“What is going on here? My god, what happened to you?”
“I was attacked… where did you come from?”
“My bike just broke down. Was on my way to visit a friend. Some nutjob jumped in front of me and I swerved into a building. I hate this city. Seriously though, you, sir, are in bad shape.”
“I know… I need to get to Mercy Hospital.”
“I hate hospitals. But you need help, so I’m coming along. Not like I know where to go from here, anyway. Here, I’ll help you along.”

The two walked down the street.

“What’s going on with people here? It’s like the whole freakin’ city caught a disease or something.”
“I don’t know. I did notice a few oddities here and there, but honestly, I don’t feel like I care. Been rather sick, and now this.”
“Every phone I’ve found is out, including my own cell. Don’t suppose you’ve noticed that, huh? So much for AT&T.”
“Yeah… it’s so weird… I wanted to call Mercy Hospital earlier, but nothing…”

They entered a pharmacy in order to get some bandages for his wounds. A few people were behind the counter, staring at the wall and cabinets. All looked drunk.
“Excuse me m’am, but my friend here is badly injured, and I need some bandages.” No response came.
“God, I hate pharmacies. EXCUUUUUSE ME! We need some first aid here, people!”
He grabbed the person’s shoulder, only to be met by a cold gaze, a white face, and a screech.
“AGAEHHYAHYHAHAA!!”
“What the hell! Why are you-” he stopped mid sentence as the woman whacked him in the face. “Oookay, that’s it.” He landed a punch on her, only to be greeted by more of the same.
“Okay, lady…” he said, and drew out a pistol.
BLAM! The body fell limp, and he was able to get a better look. The face was bleeding, but not just from his bullet wound. The skin was cut, but not red, and was cold and scaly.
Suddenly, the rest of the people turned around, and all had that cold, glazed look in their eyes.
“What is going on here?” “I don’t know, but these guys don’t look to friendly,” he responded, firing a few shots into another person who came running. At that moment, everyone in the store ran at them, madly dashing like a pack of ravenous wolves.
The man who had helped him took out another handgun and started shooting.
“I’ll handle this! Get out of here now!” he yelled, pistol-whipping one of those “things” in the face.
So he ran, ran as fast as his training allowed. Outside was no different. He had to run from the occasional passerby, but even when so ill, few could catch him.

He wandered for hours before entering a diner. I don’t feel so well, but I’d better eat something nonetheless, if I get a chance to. Inside, there was one person. Man, this entire city is nuts. I hope this guy can help me get some help. The man just turned around and made a dash for him. Oh no, not again! he thought. Spotting a baseball bat on the wall, he picked it up and broke the person’s jaw. I want to go back home…
He had some soup and bread, not being able to down much. Found a shotgun, and took just in case. Outside, the sun was setting. He headed out the door…
He didn’t remember much after that. He wandered the streets, moving towards Mercy Hospital. Thankfully very few people went after him, whom he quickly dispatched, noting that much less cared about his presence than before. He ignored those who tried to talk to him.

This is getting terrible. What is wrong with me…

Hours passed. He was thinking even less straight now.

Mmm flesh… wait, what did I just say? Hell, I don’t give a damn. It’s all so stupid. This city is stupid. That biker guy was stuipd. The whole world is stupid.

He dropped the shotgun.

Brr… so cold… so very, very cold…

cout << “Story over. Please insert at least ” << variableLargeNumber << ” comments, criticisms
, complaints, and cookies here. =)” << endl;
cin >> string comments;
return 0
system: (”pause”)