Apocalypse Survival Instincts

Its the zombie apocalypse. Its been going on for a year now, and not much of the population is left.

Name; Zahlyla Woods "Lyla"
Age; 20
Looks; http://www.wallgc.com/images/2012/11...Wallpapers.jpg
Personality; She is very independent, may come off as rude. Once you get to know her, she is very humorous, and fun to be around.
History; Nothing interesting, her parents died at the beginning of the apocalypse, and she's been alone ever since, never joining groups, and is not settled in a house that is completely Zombie and idiot proof.
Other;

Name: Scott Stevens
Age: 20
Looks: http://favim.com/orig/201107/22/beau...com-112126.jpg
Personality: He is extremely laid-back and flippant, managing to keep a calm facade even in the middle of the apocalypse. If you humor his quirks and understand that his snark isn't to be taken seriously, he's easy to get along with. He has a fondness for energy drinks, blue eyes and having his hair played with. The reason he is so calm is due to the trauma of accidentally killing his father after the man gave him a jump scare while he was cutting up an apple.
History: Sent to juvenile prison after killing his father at the age of eleven (though it was an accident, nobody ever believed him) he hasn't known his mother much. By the time he got out he was old enough to move away and - having never forgiven his mother for not trusting him - that's exactly what he did. When the zombie apocalypse started, he was forced to curb stomp his own girlfriend to death as she was trying to gnaw his face off.
Other:
-He is left handed
-He has a crow tattooed on his left shoulder-blade
-He is allergic to yeast (so no beer and no bread for him).

(I hope first person is okay? If not my next post could be third person)

I looked out the window of my boarded up home, seeing not that many zombies out and about. I was In need of some gasoline for my car, so I had to go and get some from another vehicle.. I looked up and down the street of the neighborhood seeing it was quiet, just two zombies waking down the street. Easy. I grabbed my machete, and my crossbow, never using guns since the loud bang attracts more of these brain snatchers. I made sure I had my other knife in the holder attatched to my belt. I'd say I was pretty prepared.. I slowly undid all of the locks of my solid metal door, then stepped out, the two zombies slowly limping towards me. I pulled my machete from the holder on my back and sliced both heads off with ease, then grabbed the gas can off of the lawn and ran to the nearest car, and crawling under, stabbing a hole into the tank benieth it and pushing the gas can under, quickly standing to see if any more zombies are coming.

(It's fine, I'll use third person though 'cause I'm used to it. At worst it'll look like it's from your character's perspective)

Meanwhile, Scott was fiddling around with a colt .35 he'd found on the ground. Judging by the looks of it, the poor sap laying on his belly next to him must've offed himself with it. Judging by the bullet wound, it must've taken him a good ten seconds to die, he really screwed up his shot. Not that Scott was an expert, or really cared for that matter, the end result was the same. "So the safety would be... this?" He'd never used a real gun before, or seen anything other than his dad's shotgun back when he was too young to remember the details. His probation officer made damn sure he wasn't into contact with that kind of thing. Still, he'd seen enough movies to get a general idea, there's a safety, it needs bullets and you pull the trigger to kill things, how much harder could it be?

Standing up, he looked around the relatively deserted street. There was a zombie or two, but they were too far to be a hindrance and he couldn't be bothered to do the clean up. If it wasn't coming straight at him, he wasn't going to be shooting at it. He only had five bullets anyways and god knew how long those would last. He'd put the safety off and put the gun in the back of his belt, he didn't want it to go off and have a bullet in his cheek. It was embarrassing enough when you had a doctor around to pull it out and when you didn't, it was just stupid.

"Guess I might as well get going... nothing to do in this hell hole." He let out to himself and began walking off towards what seemed to be the suburbs of the town. Being as unprepared as he was, it was a wonder how he was still alive after everything that's happened. Maybe it was just luck? Who knew. At any rate, he shouldered his backpack which he had dropped when he saw the body and continued on his way. What kind of mess would he get into now, he wondered.

My head snapped in the direction I heard noise, seeing a good 10 zombies walking towards me. "Fuck.." I quickly pulled my cross now out, and shot about three of them. "Bullsye.." I mumbled, backing away when they got closer, I then took out my Machete and sliced away, cutting each one of their heads off with one swift swing. Luckily they were slow ones. I them looked at the other end of the street, to see someone walking.. But.. Rather normal? Could he be human?

Scott sighed. "Show off..." He thought as he approached the young woman, pulling one hand out of his pocket to wave at her, confirming that he was alive and thus avoiding an arrow to the skull. As he passed by, he stomped one of the decapitated heads that was too close to his ankle for comfort. "You know, if you don't crush the brain, the heads are gonna keep moving. Some poor sap could walk by and have his foot chewed off... fun stuff." He let out, kicking another head into a nearby mailbox which shut itself the moment the head rolled in. Slowly, he'd look from left to right, examining the neighborhood. The houses looked looted, ravaged, or too much of a hassle to bother getting into. "What a dump..." He let out, not particularly caring if the girl was listening or not, and dug his hand into his pocket. He had two choices, either just wander off again and get lonely, something which he seemed to be doing a lot lately, or stick around the girl who'd just killed ten zombies like it was nothing. If nothing else, it'd be a less boring alternative to stick around, even for just a little while. "Well, at least nobody can say you fuck around." He uttered, turning to face her.

I watched him, and slid my machete back into the holder back. "It will be best for them since they weren't paying attention during a time like this." She said, and walked over to the zombies with the arrows in them. She pulled all three out, and set them on the car she was by. She watched his movements slowly.. You couldnt really trust people during this time.. They could kill you and take all your shit. "And its not that bad around here, its quiet and not many zombies go through.. My house is there." I said nodding towards the tan house. "Who are you?" I asked, leaning against the car.. He was pretty cute..

He looked to her with a calm expression. "That's cold of you." Was all he really muttered about what she said about the zombie heads. Then, he leaned against the car and took a tic tac out of his pocket, slipping it between his lips. This is when she made the comment about the neighborhood. "Really? You couldn't tell..." Was his response. Unlike her who was constantly keeping an eye on him, his eyes wandered left and right without particularly focusing on any given thing. "I'm Scott Stevens. You?"

"Talk about cold.." I mumbled quietly, I leaned over and pulled the gas jug out from under the car, screwing on the lid. "So, I'm heading back.. Would you want an apocalypse buddy or would you rather be on your way?" I said, looking up at him. He wasn't much of a threat, so I relaxed a bit, not finding a reason to keep an eye on him. I stood, holding the rather heavy jug in my hands.

"What, so no name?" He let out wish a shrug, shaking his head slightly as he watched the canister. She was using a crossbow, but she was driving a car? That sounded a little backwards if she really didn't want the attention of the undead. A bike or even your feet was a much more viable option. "Why not? I guess hanging out with a cutie won't hurt." He let out, not really caring if she paid attention to the compliment or not and followed her.

"Zahlyla Woods.. Call me Lyla.. And cutie?" I said, raising am eyebrow, well.. At least we got something in common, we both think we are cute, eh? I carried the gas down the sidewalk and to the front door, setting it by it, planning to just leave it there. I opened the door, and as he stepped in I closed it, and then locked it. The house was pretty clean, it looked like the apocalypse didn't hit, it looked normal. "Foods in the kitchen, there's plenty so dig in, I have running water so take a shower if you want, and yeah.." I said and shrugged awkwardly.

Scott chuckled lightly. "Running water? Make sure not to drink any, hey?" He let out, whether the water was working or not, the chances a zombie made it into the source was too likely and he didn't trust any type of filtering enough to test it. Still, he did accept the invitation to the fridge and helped himself to a can of tuna. He could've made himself a sandwich, but his yeast allergy was pretty bad and he'd rather save what was left of his medication for a time when there was absolutely nothing else to eat. "You wouldn't happen to have two bedrooms, would you?" He asked haphazardly. He could always crash on the couch if push came to shove, but if he had a bed to lay on he would definitely enjoy the comfort.

"Please.. I have lots of bottled water. And yeah.. The first door on the right down the hallway is a room you can use.." I said, and I sat on the couch, and picked up my guitar and just played 'Wonderwall' quietly, strumming each chord softly and slowly, getting into the music. It was honestly my getaway from all of this, I taught myself at the beginning of it how to play guitar and its been my thing ever since. I then began to play 'The Master plan' humming quietly.

"Take the time to make some sense, of what you want to say..." Scott let out absent-mindedly, strumming his fingers on the fork he was using to eat the tuna. "...and cast your words away upon the waves. Sail them home with acquiesce on a ship of hope today..." He continued, looking to her fingers dancing on the cords. "...and as they land upon the shore, tell them not to fear no more. Say it loud and sing it proud today... and then dance if you wanna dance, please brother take a chance, you know they're gonna go, which way they wanna go, All... we... know is that we don't know how it's gonna be, please brother let it be. Life on the other hand, won't make us understand." His foot began to drum the floor along with the beat. It might've been a little weird for Lyla to have him jump into song all of a sudden, but Scott had to admit he simply didn't have enough fucks to hold the urge in when it was felt. "We're all part of a master plan." He took advantage of the solo to take another bite, slowly chewing the only meal he'd had since this morning when he stumbled upon a can of beans.

"Say it loud, and sing it proud today! I'm not saying right is wrong, it's up to us to make." He continued. "The best of all the things that come our way. Cause everything that's been has passed, the answer's in the looking glass, there's four and twenty million doors, on life's endless corridors... Say it loud and sing it proud and they..." He gulped down another bite quickly, noticing that he wouldn't have the chance to take another one if he was gonna insist on singing the whole thing. "Will dance if they wanna dance, please brother take a chance, you know they're gonna go, which way they wanna go, all we know is that we don't know..." He looked up to the ceiling, considering their situation this song was bizarrely appropriate. "How it's gonna be, please brother let it be, Life on the other hand, won't make you understand, we're all part of the master plan..."

His eyes went down to the tuna and he enjoyed another bite to the tune of Lyla's guitar. "oouuuu.... ououououuou... oouuuuu... ououououuou..." and down came another bite. Seeing as the rest of the song was purely melodic he focused on enjoying his food.

I chuckled softly, and continued to play. Amused that he knew of the song, Oasis was from England, and popular there, not much in America. After the song I raised an eyebrow. "Well, good.. How about this one..." I said, and began to strum the chords for "Champagne Supernova"... "How many special people change, How many lives are living strange, where were you while we were getting high? Slowly walking down the hall, Faster than a cannonball, where were you while we were getting high? Someday you will find me, caught benieth the landslide, in a champagne supernova.. A champagne supernova in the sky... Wake up at dawn and ask her why , dream a dream she'll never die, wipe that tear away now from your eye.."

He shrugged and followed along when he heard her voice stop; "Slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannon ball, where were you when we were getting high? some day you will find me, caught beneath the landslide, in a champagne supernova in the sky. Some day you will find me caught beneath the landslide. In a champagne supernova... a champagne supernova in the sky Cos people believe that they're gonna get away for the summer but you and I, we live and die. The world's still spinning round, we don't know why, why, why, why, why..." He didn't know the rest of the song by heart, but he had a general idea of how it went. "...that's all I got, I'm not a hardcore fan like you seem to be."

"Well, its a seven minute song so I don't blame you. I guess Noel is still around, him and his bodyguards and crap, which is good, he did write all the songs, you know." I said, setting the guitar on the stand. "And me? A hard core faN? PSH.. No.." I said, and leaned against a shelf that had all of their albums and even a signed picture in a frame. I glanced at it, and chuckled. "Maybe a little."

"A little, huh?" Scott let out with a shrug before walking off to the couch and sitting down, stretching his legs out a little. "You have a lot of food and water for now, but do we won't be able to stay here forever. Have a back-up plan for when supplies run dry?" He asked out of curiosity. He wasn't particularly planning to stay with her to the end, this was mostly a momentary stop, but if things turned out differently he wanted to know how doomed he was ahead of time.

"Well, the basement is stock piled, and there's a store down the street with a lot of canned food still." I said, and I sat on the ground beside the couch, and leaned my back against it, and I took my notebook out and just began to doodle.. I had a lot of things to keep me busy, so I wasn't too worried about much.. "So, you're not planning to stay long? I mean if you do, great." I said, and put more detail into the rose I free handedly drew.

"Seriously? A store... and no survivors whatsoever even considered going in to take their own share? I know a lot of people died but how can the place still be stocked? Every moron and their dog runs for the food store when the apocalypse starts..." He let out with a discouraged tone. It was like nothing made sense right now. "Oh and screw it, I don't even care..." He shook his head in disbelief. At least they'd have a good load for the time being. It is then that he noticed her question. "I don't know quite yet. Not sure if I can completely trust you. No offense, but the last time a hottie invited me into her home, she tried to steal my bag and her husband took a bat swing at my nugget." After those words, he rose his bangs to show a wound on his forehead just above the left eye. It looked pretty well-stitched so it would eventually vanish without leaving so much as a scar, but until then it was a pain. "Speaking of, there's nothing worth stealing in that bag so don't bother." He uttered, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling once more. "Need any batteries, by the way? I yanked some off the couple of schmucks that tried to rob me, but I don't have anything that requires 'em."

"Because I'm the manager and I locked it up good." I said. "And sorry about that.. And good job for assuming I'll do the same.." I mumbled, setting the book down, and holding my head in my hands. "I'm just saying, believe me or not, I'm not like that. I dont steel. I don't see the point, why would anyone take someone hard earned items? I don't know, I just think its stupid." I said, shaking my head. "Trust me or not, just saying you honestly have nothing to worry about."

"That's normally true, but we're in the apocalypse. Everything you don't take hurts your chances to survive a little... most people think like that anyway." He let out with a look up at the scar that was now covered by his hair, reminding her that he didn't exactly have the easy way out of the apocalypse. "...and no offense, but you're being too nice. Cute girl offers food and shelter asking nothing in return? Even outside of the apocalypse that never happens." He continued, opening his bag and plucking through to find something. "I guess you have a point though... I saw you handle those zombies. If you wanted me dead you would've killed me by now..." With those words said, he pulled out a pair of lead pipes and connected them together, forming a foot long stick which he put into the handle of the door. "Call me paranoid if you want, I call it "staying alive"..." He muttered.

"Its cause I've been alone for a long time. I just want someone around.. I don't care if they are a cereal killer.. Or, even if they kill me, better than living during this." I said, and stood. "I'll.. Be upstairs." I said, sighing. I made my way up the steps slowly, and to my bedroom, I sat on my bed, and looked out the window... Why couldn't things just go back?

"Did you just say cereal?" Was all he let out as Lyla walked upstairs. He sighed and looked towards the room he had been offered. "Well, might as well nap. Haven't had the chance in a while..." With those words, he picked up his bag and carried it to the room, resting it on one of the night tables and laying down. He was right, nothing in that bag was worth stealing, but he really wanted to keep all of it. A part of him knew he just needed it. "Good night, girly." He let out as though she could hear him and laid down. Allowing his eyes to close for the first time in three days.

(Ah, tiredness got me.. Haha, serial *)

I didn't sleep, I just.. Thought about things. I took my songbook out and began to write down lyrics I thought of.. I knew things would be different now, I had someone with me now, someone to just interact with.. I liked the thought of falling in love again, but I couldn't do that. I mean, there were more important things, right? Right..

A dream. Perhaps, Scott couldn't really tell between dream or reality anymore since the zombie apocalypse happened. Maybe it was just a memory he was living out again. Again. Again. Again. His girlfriend chewing the jugular off his roommate as he watched with horrified eyes before stumbling towards him. By some struck of luck she stumbled, but she reached for his leg and tried to grab him, tried to pull him closer, tried to take a bite. In a mix of horror and survival instinct, he brought his foot to her skull. The steel-toed boot heavily smashed into her cheek, but she continued, as if not even fazed, trying to chew his leg off. "God dammit!" He yelled in frustration, smashing his boot down onto her head, again. Again. Again. Again. He gave up on counting how many times he did. No matter how many times he relived it, he always ended up losing count somewhere between eight and when her left eye rolled off under the bed. It at least took a good twenty, that much he was certain of. He watched in horror as he curb stomped his own girlfriend, every fiber of his being trying to hold his leg back, trying to let her live somehow, but it couldn't be helped. This was a memory, not a dream, he didn't have a say on what was going to happen. Now that he knew about zombies, it was a little easier to rationalize the curb stomp he'd made her go through, but the brutality of things was still there; he'd killed her long before knowing about zombies at all, long before he knew she was beyond help, long before knowing she wasn't alive. He was a murderer, it was just like that time with his dad. "Sophy..." He muttered in his sleep, a single tear rolling out of his right eye.

I was soon out of my room, and now looking through Nirvana lyrics that came from a CD. I looked at each song like a puzzle, trying to figure out the meaning of each of them, and then writing down lyrics of my own, inspired by his. The songbook I had was like a diary.. Every week has its own song, I just somehow describe creativily how each week went and how I felt.

Scott slowly woke from his slumber, there was no yawn or eye rubbing, he was still in survival mode and every second wasted was one where he wasn't actively trying to survive. It was only once he was out of the room that he realized he was perfectly safe. Curious, he took a gander at his watch. "I slept three hours straight? Wow..." He let out, actually impressed at how long that nap was.

I was in the back yard, watching as my dog, Jack played, just running around, burning energy. He never barked, which was good.. The last thing I need is more of those Walkers around. I patted my leg, and chuckled as he ran over, he was a black German Shepherd and was pretty large. I picked up the ball, and threw it, smiling as he chased it and brought it back to me. I wonder if Scott is still asleep..

"Wait... you have a dog, and you let it stay outside?" Scott asked as he opened the door of the patio. Granted, the backyard was fenced, but it was still a hazard. "He doesn't bark, does he?" With that question out, he opened the beer he had found somewhere in the bottom of the fridge. It was pretty early to be drinking, but he hit twenty one in the middle of the apocalypse and he would be damned if he didn't get to enjoy alcohol at least once before his face was eaten off.

I turned snd smiled, and nodded. "Hes a quiet dog, never barks." I stated, and I chuckled as Jack walked over to Scott cautiously, but then licked his hand, and began to wag his tail. "Hes harmless." I said, not wanting him to be scared of the dig, he looked big and scary, but honestly wouldn't hurt a thing.

He casually patted the dog, but retracted his hand. "Don't lick me, boy..." He let out on a relaxed tone. "My fingers taste like blood." With that, he looked up to the sky. In this enclosed backyard you could almost not tell that the end of the world was happening.