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1. Gun them down.

4 (66.7%)

2. Make a break for it.

2 (33.3%)

3. ssssssssssssss

0 (0%)

Total Members Voted: 6

Voting closed: December 04, 2009, 08:17:53 AM

[Friday]

I can confirm that map is fairly accurate, and also that you entered the side door into the building opposite the dumpster, putting the second fire escape on the same side as the monster-in-a-box.

[Edormoggon]

So left has the highest probability of going outside.

But mysterious hallway.

[Friday]

Also that is a pretty neat map. :D

[Romosome]

I just noticed he even has infected on it as little red dots

[Friday]

1. No. Fear is to be faced. You won't let some vague writing change your course. Continue forward.

Despite Jesse's words, you feel compelled somehow to continue straight, past the writing on the wall.

Jesse follows close behind. "Here," she whispers, reaching out to hand you the lighter.

You take it from her hand, your fingers briefly touching hers. You smile and turn back around.

As you pass the strange blue writing, you give it a closer look, but find nothing that interesting about it. The handwriting looks childish, almost crude. The eye wreathed in red flame seems to stare back at you. You continue on.

Your footsteps are like bullets in the dark. Jesse, despite her work boots, treads much lighter than you, pattering like a spider behind. All else is dark and quiet. Your eyes flicker back and forth with the flame in your hand, tracking every shadow, every crack in the floor and walls.

Two doors, facing each other across the empty hall, the paint chipped away. They are not labeled, and both are locked. You might be able to break them down if you tried, but you doubt you'd find anything useful inside. You pass them by.

The hallway ends at a T. On the wall in a faded sign, pointing left, that reads: OFFICES. You look down the right passage, it stretches beyond your light.

You turn to look down the left passage to see another blue message, written mostly on the floor diagonally running away from you, but unevenly spreading up the right wall as well:

Max is waiting for you. He's cold and
lonely, he needs a good friend
His master's gone, he cried for a long time
31 31 31 31 31 31 31 31

"See that too?" you ask.

"Yeah," Jesse replies.

"Guess that means we go left," you say, starting toward the lettering. A closer examination again reveals nothing new.

"What the hell is this?" Jesse asks. "I mean, who would write this kind of stuff?"

"I don't know," you say. "But I'm not going to let it get to me. We need to find a way out of here, and if we can get to the main building, all the better."

You pass another door on the right, but it too is locked tight. At the end of the hall is a closed door with STAIRS written on it. The doorknob is loose in your hand. You pull the door open.

The stairs on the other side are newer and in better condition, this looks to be their bottom floor. There's a big blue arrow on the wall, pointing diagonally up the stairs.

Grinning a bit at the strangeness of it all, you mount the first step and begin to climb. Above you the stairs flatten and then double back, continuing upward. Against the wall at the landing is a window with curtains drawn. You part them with one hand, but can see only gray fog through the glass. Another blue arrow points up the next flight, this one one the flat tile, the front end jaggedly climbing the first two steps itself.

At the top is another very small room with a blank door. On the door is a maelstrom of blue scribbles. Looking closely, you can see what appears to be a small human figure in the center of it all. Judging by the long hair it might be female.

The door opens into a larger hallway, perhaps twice as wide as the ones downstairs. The paint isn't all chipped anymore. It looks like this area was in use, perhaps only the downstairs floor was abandoned, or simply in disuse apart from storage.

Still no windows. The lights are more modern in here, soft rounded fixtures spread about twenty feet apart. Off, of course. On each side of the hallway, doors. On the right, a Men's and Woman's bathroom. On the left, numbered portals, 36, 37, 38.

"This is the third floor," you say. "I bet all the doors are numbered three-something."

"Don't tell me you're looking for number thirty-one," Jesse says. You merely look at her.

The bathrooms are locked, as are the other three doors. These doors look far sturdier than their downstairs counterparts. No way you could break through them.

At the end of the hall, another T. The left has another door on the right, number 39. From what you can see, the hallway left only goes about fifteen or twenty feet before dead ending into a metal door labeled: FIRE ESCAPE. Nearby on the wall is a fire extinguisher behind glass in a hanging metal box. BREAK IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, it reads down the side of the container.

You turn and look right. The hall extends beyond the vision of the light, but you can see a single door on the right side. 35.

"Come on," Jesse says. "There's the exit, we can get out over there through the fire escape. It's on the opposite side of the building from where we came in."

She starts down the hall. You hesitate.

"Alright," she says, turning. "You want to find room thirty-one. Right?"

**************************

1. "Right."

2. "Nope. Let's get the hell out of here."

**************************

[Niku]

1.








oh, hai there!

[Romosome]

I'm far too curious.

There's still so much we don't know and we've spent what feels like ages just running for our lives without a chance to uncover any of the truth.

And really, with worms in both of our heads and the entire fucking world outside fucked by monsters I don't think wanting to read or follow the mysterious blue text is that irrational.  Normalcy doesn't really apply.

Let's find out where this goes.  Following the arrows didn't screw us over yet.  Let's find 31.

(Is anyone else wondering if the figure on the door was maybe who I think?)

[Niku]

(I was wondering exactly that.)

[Edormoggon]

On one hand, the blue writing is obviously the "good" infection / Nicole helping us.

On the other, Max sounds a lot like a doggy.

The retriever grunts and growls and you feel yourself being lifted.

You are torn to pieces.

From behind you, you can hear Nicole screaming as your head thumps to the ground and your vision goes dark.

So, my understanding is this. There are at least two strains of the infection, red (all of the things trying to kill us) and blue (Nicole). We are infected with both. We can read red writing and knew the thoughts of the dumpster creature due to the red infection. However, the red infection is hostile toward us because we also have the blue infection. Jesse can see the blue writing, so she has the blue infection as well (I'm guessing the writing isn't physically there) -- she hasn't shown any strong signs of having the red infection.

I have a feeling that Max is going to be a blue version of a cavine. It may be a vine-spewing zombie dog, or perhaps like us other blues, just a normal dog with worms inside it. I have faith that the blue infection is trying to help rather than kill us. He would be a good companion to have along, but if I'm wrong, we are about to have our head ripped off. Again.

Glad you all like my map. I guess my old copy of Flash 6.0 isn't completely useless.

[Guild]

zzzzzzzzzzz1

[Cthulhu-chan]

ALL ABOARD THE BLUESSSSSSS TRAIN

[Friday]

10-0 to go find room 31. Updating early.

1. "Right."

Jesse sighs. "And there's no chance I can convince you to ignore it and get the hell out while we still have the chance, right?"

You slowly shake your head. "I've been ignoring everything and getting the hell out for a long time, now. It's time I started trying to figure out what the hell was going on around here. What the hell is going on inside me. This writing is different. I want to know why."

Jesse walks up to your and grips your arm. "What if it's a trick? A trap? You can't know! Not for sure!"

You smile and gently remove her hand from your arm. "It doesn't feel like it, to me. I think whoever wrote these messages is trying to help us, or at least, not trying to kill us."

Jesse's eyes, which had been searching your face, fall. "Alright. Fine. I'll help you. But remember your promise to me; if you sense danger, no heroics."

You nod. "I know. If I think things are going south, trust me, I'll get the hell out of there."

"Unless your good pal Benny decides that that would be a good time to paralyze you again," Jesse mutters.

You shrug. "He could have paralyzed me a hundred times in the last twenty minutes if he wanted me dead. I don't think Benny wants me to die, either. Though I don't think what he DOES want is any better."

Jesse stares at you with her good eye for a long time. Finally she lets out a long breath. "I wish my visions were as nice," she says simply.

You put a hand on her shoulder. The two of you stand in the small light cast by the lighter's flame in the darkness of the hallway.

"Come on," you say, and turn to head down the right hall.

You pass door 35 on the right. As you draw even with it, another door appears ahead on the left. 34. You give the knob of 35 a try, but like all the others, it's locked.

34 is the same, except that there's a long tear in the paint of the door, like someone had slashed it with a knife. Up ahead the hallway turns 90 degrees right. On the wall facing you is room 33. The corner has been piled up with furniture. A desk, a chair on top of it. Like the room was barricaded from this side. There is a blue crawl of writing next to the door.

You walk closer and read:

little nancy was naughty
so they put her on time out
in the room for bad little children
she waits for a friend to play with
but nobody will come to play
with naughty little nancy

You give Jesse a look. She merely shakes her head.

You turn past the door, to the right and continue down the hall. Another door, this time on the right: 32. Nothing remarkable about it. Opposite it on the left wall, a short passage with an elevator.

Fifteen feet past both door and elevator, the hallway dead ends into room 31.

31's door is clawed and marked and torn to tatters. The paint and wood looks like something has been chewing on it. You can't be sure, but it looks similar to the damage you've seen in the past caused by Faceless vines.

Above the door, hanging from a little fish hook in the ceiling, is a key. It is surrounded by small blue arrows, all pointing inward at it. Next to the door is a note pinned up high on the wall with a tack. It's not blue, and the writing looks to be in normal text.

You reach up and tear it down.

I put the key above. They're probably not smart enough to notice or use it. If you're reading this, come on in.

**********************************

1. Take the key, open door 31.

2. Investigate room 33, naughty Nancy.

**********************************

[Romosome]

I don't think we need to play with Naughty Nancy, even if the N-name is screwing with me.

I think we need to see what we came here for and then get the hell out.

[Niku]

Room 31 looks to be at least proven to be safe from outside Faceless (or as much as a door can offer), so yeah, I think we should hit it.  But .. curiosity .. 

[Cthulhu-chan]

We can worry about Nancy if whatever's behind door number 3 doesn't decide to eat us.

[Edormoggon]

Naughty Nancy is a midget sex slave. For the love of god don't open that door.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lPpI2ev7AeU

[Zaratustra]

that looks like it came out of an Aphex Twin video

[Kayma]

NO NAUGHTY NANCY! NO NAUGHTY NANCY!

[Friday]

Sorry about not updating, I was out of town for the weekend.

Update coming soon. Am tired now.

[Friday]

1. Take the key, open door 31.

You crumple the note and throw it to the floor. In the darkness it looks a bit like a scurrying rat as it rolls up against a wall.

Jess touches your shoulder. You turn and she's holding the key in her hand.

"Be careful," she says, simply. You nod and take the key.

It slides into the lock and you turn the metal, hearing the soft click as the lock disengages.

You take a deep breath and push open the door. It opens silently, and you stand at the entrance, surveying the interior.

The room is fairly well lit from the soft gray light coming through the two windows inside. The interioris mostly normal, furniture, light fixtures, end tables, a couch. Up against the wall is a dead body, slumped in a chair.

Blood and dried brain matter stains the wall behind. His hand still loosely clutch the 12 gauge that killed him. Despite the mess, you can tell one eye is missing.

You step into the room, Jesse silently following.

There's another door to the left, standing open. You glimpse another window, part of a bathroom. As you look you hear a soft whimper, followed by footsteps and a soft jingle.

Jesse tenses and lowers her rifle, but you place a hand on her.

A medium sized black and white dog comes to the threshold of the bathroom door, then stops, cocks his head slightly, and stares at you.

You kneel and put both your hands outward, palms up. The dog continues to stare, it's expression neutral.

You lick your lips and whistle softly. "Come here. Come on, boy. It's OK. I'm not gonna hurt you," you say.

The dog whines, once, almost mournfully. It takes a single step forward.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Jesse says in a low tone from above and behind. "He might be infected."

"He's not," you say. "I can't feel him."

"What?"

"Nevermind. Trust me. He's not infected."

The dog is regarding the two of you speak, looking back and forth between you as you talk. His eyes are two different colors, one a deep brown, the other a startling blue.

You gently pat your legs. "Come on, boy. It's OK. Come here."

One leg lifts, but then is set down again. The dog looks unsure, eyes regarding you with a mix of emotion.

"Max," you say. "It's OK. Come here, Max."

The dog reacts to the name, and finally comes forward cautiously, muzzle low to the ground. He stops about five feet away.

You reach into your pocket and pull out an almost finished bag of beef jerky, the last of the food you have now. You remove a strip and hold it out.

The dog sniffs, and inches forward. You wait.

Finally he stretches his neck out tenderly and snatches the offered strip with his teeth gently, then retreats back to the bathroom with it before turning to regard you with one eye while chewing.

You stand and walk to the dead man.

From what you can tell, he killed himself by eating the end of his shotgun. Some blood is on the barrel, but it's long dry. You wrest the weapon from his grasp and hand it to Jesse, who immediately checks it.

"It's nearly fully loaded," she says. "Four shells left. Just down the one he... used."

You nod. The man is wearing a business suit. The room looks like a typical office, you have no idea what it was used for. You head over to a nearby table to see a folded note.

Brian J. Hawkins, last will and testament

To whoever finds this letter;

I apologize for the mess. I don't have much time left now, and even if I did, I don't think I'd want to go on living, locked up in here like this. After having seen your son murder your wife, little things like living don't seem so important anymore.

If you're reading this, it means you're still human. Maybe you're with the army, or the government. I hope so. It would mean that they're getting a handle on this, that this thing is beatable, that it hasn't spread. I hope so, but I doubt it. I've seen what the government and the army is doing. I don't think you're with the government, or the armed forces. I think you're probably a survivor, maybe looking for supplies, maybe running from those things out there that even now I can hear, screaming at each other. Mixed with the screams of those few who are left.

If you are a survivor, I want to help you. I don't know why. I feel like my entire life hasn't meant anything, like I was meant for something more. But then my son got infected and everything went to shit. My life is over, now, I know that. It's either the gun or living as one of those monsters, and that's not even a choice. I go now to see my wife. My son, I'll have to wait a bit longer for, I didn't have it in me to stop him, even after it was too late.

My only regret is leaving Max behind. I had planned to take him with me but I found I just couldn't do it. I left him a large supply of food and water, but most likely he'll still be dead by the time anyone finds this. I'm so weak. I should just kill him now, instead I have condemned him to live out the rest of his life trapped in a small room, and then starve to death, in a cage, with those things clawing the doom outside.

If by some miracle you find him alive, then I ask you only one thing in return for what I give you: take care of him. Either do what I could not, or take him with you. Find a place for him where he can be safe and happy, he deserves that much for his years of loyal service to me and my family.

Take the shotgun. It should be fully loaded, minus the one, of course. There's a box of shells in the medicine cabinet. I stockpiled some water, but I poured it all in the tub for Max. I'm afraid I don't have any food, what little was here I have already eaten.

Hah. Now that I actually take inventory, I don't have much to give you other than the gun. Perhaps some information will help you.

They came with the mist. It rolled in one day, like a wave of blood. Reports say it's coming from a large crater on the east side of town. I don't know what they are or why they're here. They seem to be carrying off the dead, always to the east. I've seen what happens to dogs who get infected. They've even worse than the humans, they seem smarter, even.

But they're not the worst. The worst are the ones who still look like us. They come in, they pretend. They let the others in. I urge you: Trust nobody.

The radio is saying that the threat has been contained, that a meeting place for food and water has been set up on the east side of town for civilians. What a crock of shit. Ted wouldn't listen to me, he didn't believe they were smart enough to do something like that, didn't believe they could talk and think like us. And after everything we had been through. Nancy got Bill, tore him to pieces right in front of us. We managed to lock her in her office, room 33. Still couldn't bring myself to kill anyone. I'm pathetic.

I can see my wife. She's telling me not to do it. But she's not real. I know that now, I can feel them inside me. They're almost ready. I won't give them the fucking pleasure.

It's time. Please take care of Max. He likes cheese, and chasing cats.

-- Brian

Jesse had been reading it over your shoulder. Her face is blank. You walk to the bathroom door. Max backs away from you into the corner. A soft pillow, covered in fur. The bathtub is down to a thin line of water at the bottom. Several bowls and plates, licked clean, scattered on the floor. An empty bag of dog food. Max stares at you.

You open the medicine cabinet and pull out the box of shells. Opening it, there seems to be a good number, around twenty more. You pocket it.

Walking back out into the main room, you take the shotgun from Jesse slowly. Max follows behind you, like a shadow, keeping his distance.

"What are we going to do?" Jesse asks. "And why were we led here?"

"I don't know," you reply.

Max walks forward and, muzzle still low to the ground, gently licks your hand.

**************************************

1. Take him with you.

2. Taking a dog with you is too dangerous. Finish it.

**************************************