Brontoforumus Archive

Please login or register.

Login with username, password and session length
Advanced search  

News:


This board has been fossilized.
You are reading an archive of Brontoforumus, a.k.a. The Worst Forums Ever, from 2008 to early 2014.  Registration and posting (for most members) has been disabled here to discourage spambots from taking over.  Old members can still log in to view boards, PMs, etc.

The new message board is at http://brontoforum.us.

Poll

Choices

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


Pages: 1 ... 49 50 51 52 53 [54] 55 56 57

Author Topic: The Ends  (Read 59130 times)

0 Members and 2 Guests are viewing this topic.

Detonator

  • You made me come back for THIS?
  • Admin
  • Tested
  • Karma: 42
  • Posts: 3040
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1060 on: October 20, 2009, 11:12:17 AM »

We are dead without the dog.
Logged
"Imagine punching somebody so hard that they turned into a door. Then you found out that's where ALL doors come from, and you got initiated into a murder club that makes doors. The stronger you punch, the better the door. So there are like super strong murderers who punch people into Venetian doors and shit"

Friend

  • Meow see here..
  • Tested
  • Karma: 4
  • Posts: 321
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1061 on: October 20, 2009, 11:49:31 AM »

...The last time we ran after dogs we had our throat ripped out.
Logged

Norondor

  • Where I'm at is: Fuck you, get shot
  • Tested
  • Karma: 30
  • Posts: 4184
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1062 on: October 20, 2009, 12:05:46 PM »

Circumstantial evidence suggests there is more to Max than meets the eye. I feel we'd be remiss to go without him.

Might wanna stand off to the side of the door if we go back and knock for Kyle to open up, though.
Logged

Zaratustra

  • what
  • Tested
  • Karma: 48
  • Posts: 3691
    • View Profile
    • Zaratustra Productions
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1063 on: October 20, 2009, 12:07:59 PM »

A MAN'S DOG IS HIS CASTLE

Norondor

  • Where I'm at is: Fuck you, get shot
  • Tested
  • Karma: 30
  • Posts: 4184
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1064 on: October 20, 2009, 12:17:15 PM »

The dog is closely linked with the blue, from what it seems so far. Kenny mentioned something about a dog and then fucked off, the second-to-last time we saw him. I feel like we're not done with him, that's all.
Logged

Angry Beaver

  • Tested
  • Karma: 0
  • Posts: 57
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1065 on: October 21, 2009, 09:11:42 AM »

I have a feeling that Max will find us, or rejoin us down the road. But going back is just gonna get us killed.
Logged

Transportation

  • Tested
  • Karma: 2
  • Posts: 541
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1066 on: October 21, 2009, 08:02:20 PM »

Perhaps Max will kill him for us?

We'll find out soon enough!
Logged

PyanCrime

  • Tested
  • Karma: -1
  • Posts: 7
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1067 on: October 23, 2009, 12:55:25 PM »

Fuck yes! The Ends are back! (Is back?)
Logged

Friday

  • Admin
  • Tested
  • Karma: -65374
  • Posts: 5122
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1068 on: October 23, 2009, 04:05:12 PM »

1. Go back.

Cursing again under your breath, you do a three point turn on the narrow road, kicking up dust, and turn around to head back toward the house.

You pull the 9mm out of the glove box and put it on the dash. The fog slips around your car like shreds of paper torn by a knife.

A sudden urgency grabs hold of you. You accelerate, pressing your foot down to the floor. By god, if Kyle is going to come out shooting, he's not going to be the only one. You just hope it doesn't come to that.

You're nearly to the house when a sudden dark figure, emerging from the mist and low to the ground, looms ahead of you on the road.

Cavine. Its dark tendrils twist and snarl at you as you slam the brake and turn the wheel.

Your car slides sideways and comes to a grinding halt, throwing bits of gravel and rock up into the air. You reach over to the passenger seat and grab your rifle before exiting the door and sighting the cavine, who has not moved.

The tentacles sprouting from the ruined head seem to flicker and dance, obscured by the fog. You blink, hard.

Max trots up to you with an inquisitive look on his face.

You slowly lower your rifle, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your face.

Max whines softly and you take a deep breath. "It's OK, boy," you say, putting out a hand. "I thought you were someone else."

Max licks your hand and trots to the car, before hopping in the open drivers door, then over the seats into the back. He looks out at you expectantly.

You wipe your face and return to the car. Shifting back into drive, you slowly head down the road, back toward the main highway. Max curls up and seems to go to sleep.

You put the 9mm back into the glove box, and shake your head. That wasn't just the vagueness of the fog. You saw a cavine. You're sure of it. Are you hallucinating again? So soon after drinking so much alcohol?

You reach the main highway, and turn back south, toward Limestone. Empty fields, dotted with trees and marked by gentle slopes, stretch away to either side as you drive. An occasional abandoned house, rotting grape vineyards.

Strangely, you're not all that worried about Jesse. You're confident in her ability to take care of herself, and if she is going to escape Kyle's little survival bunker and find you, then you're sure she will. On the other hand, she is a lot safer there, if she decides to stay. In the meantime, you've got a little girl to find.

Speaking of which, where the fuck are you going?

Back to Limestone? To the supposed crater in the east side of town? Why?

Other than some vague feelings, a few strange blue scribbles, and an odd sense of being pulled there, you've got no reason at all to assume Nicole (and David) are anywhere in the city. It doesn't even make sense that they'd be close to the crater. If anything, David would be trying to get as far away from such places as possible.

Yet despite this, you still feel a strange... pulling sensation. Nothing overt or strong, just a sense that you are supposed to go to this crater. Supposed to be there. For some reason.

You slow the car to a stop at the side of a lonely barb wire fence, stretching around a patch of grazing land now completely empty. The fog drifts over the long grass of the field like a timid lover, swirling slowly and lazily. You can see the vague shape of what could be a barn through the fog.

You frown. What if this odd, vague feeling puling you toward the east side of Limestone isn't related to Nicole at all?

You think back, trying to remember what you found or heard to lead you here in your search for Nicole. Try as you might, you can't remember a single piece of evidence ever pointing you toward the crater. Even the strange blue writing you saw simply led you to Max, and nothing else.

And yet, over the past two days or so, this growing certainty that Nicole is here, nearby, solidifying into a pull toward the east.

The only thing you can think of is seeing Nicole when you first drove into Limestone and crashed. But she had turned into or been replaced by No-Face, so you don't really think that counts. More likely, you were hallucinating.

Funny. You never did ask what Jesse saw before you crashed. You certainly were at least partially out of it. You can remember seeing giant teeth stretching into the sky. Not reality, for sure.

Max growls softly, breaking you from your thoughts. You look up and around and see a Faceless about twenty yards away, approaching you from the field. It's a young boy. One of his arms is ripped to shreds, hanging off the bone like clothes from a line. Despite this both arms are wrapped around his chest and upper body as you have seen before.

You watch him as he does his strange bowlegged gait toward you. A low burbling, hissing sound emanates from his maw. Max's growls seem to match it.

You drive off, continuing to head to Limestone. Max watches the boy out of the rear windshield long after he has disappeared into the mist.

You pass the Wal-Mart where you had your terrible Benny-induced visions. The memory of them still disturbs you, which you suppose is a good sign.

Humph. Kyle probably didn't pack you any booze. You'll need to find some. First priority. You've got enough problems without seeing things that aren't really there.

Driving along, you continue to argue with yourself about Nicole, and the strange pulling sensation.

This is crazy. What the fuck are you doing? Nicole is gone. She left you. Forget her. Go back to Kyle's. You were safe there. Isn't that the goal?

No. The goal is to find Nicole.

Even if that were the case, what says she's here, in Limestone? What says she's anywhere near some supposed crater?

Nothing. I just know.

You just know? Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?

I don't care.

What about Jesse? You promised you'd take care of her, too. And yet you're leaving her behind with a crazy gun-nut in order to go skipping about in infested land.

Jesse can take care of herself. Nicole is just a girl. She needs me.

David will take care of her. David did take care of her, by getting her away from a crazy, infected person. You. Do you really think he's going to be all that pleased to see you, assuming you actually do find them again?

We don't know why David took her. Something might have happened, suddenly?

We? Hahahaha. Oh man. You are pretty far gone, you know that?

What I said I. Didn't I?

Silence. The other voice (which was your own inner debate, right?) does not respond. You continue to drive, now less sure of yourself.

What if what's pulling you toward this crater isn't Nicole at all? What if this pulling sensation is real, but from something else?

You don't have an answer to that. You can only hope it isn't the case.

You're nearing the outskirts of the town. On your left, you see a Shell station. There's a convenience store behind the pumps. A suburban sits next to them, the gasline still inserted into the tank. The front windshield is cracked. Some of the windows of the store have been smashed. You see no activity.

If you're gonna stop for some booze, this seems like as good a place as any.

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

1. Stop.

2. You can get alcohol later. Nicole comes first.

3. This is crazy. Fuck it. Turn around, head back to Kyle's.

Logged

Friend

  • Meow see here..
  • Tested
  • Karma: 4
  • Posts: 321
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1069 on: October 23, 2009, 04:48:33 PM »

That's not Max. That's Benny the 2nd
Logged

Cyan Prime

  • a little queer
  • Tested
  • Karma: -65534
  • Posts: 459
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1070 on: October 24, 2009, 09:40:13 PM »

I vote we stop for booze.
Logged

Transportation

  • Tested
  • Karma: 2
  • Posts: 541
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1071 on: October 25, 2009, 11:23:57 AM »

One isn't bad as our decision making is getting pretty terrible, which usually implies a case of worms. However, we were drunk quite recently. Not to mention faceless have been smashing alcohol and that place looks used-up.

Or perhaps it's not worms and Max is messing with our brain, like he presumably did in order to help us find him. That inner monologue was probably with Benny or his equivalent.

Why was Max outside in the first place? In cavine mode, at that?

Perhaps Max will kill him for us?

We'll find out soon enough!

I was right hooraaay.

Three will probably lead to a miffed Kyle or a bunker full of corpses which may or may not include Jesse. I doubt that they were mobbed by faceless that fast, so going back might get us some closure on this damn dog.

Of course that dog is in the car right now, so maybe getting closure would be a bad idea.

EDIT: P.S. Typo

Quote
Strangely, you're not all that worried about Jesse. You're confident in her ability to take care of herself, and if she is going to escape Kyle's little survival bunker and find you, then you're sure she will. On the other hand, she is a lot safer there, if she decides to stay. In the meantime, you've got a little girl to find.
Logged

LaserBeing

  • invisible murder cube
  • Tested
  • Karma: 25
  • Posts: 1261
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1072 on: November 11, 2009, 03:40:02 PM »

1. But for fuck's sake be careful.
Logged

Cthulhu-chan

  • Tested
  • Karma: 10
  • Posts: 2036
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1073 on: November 12, 2009, 01:54:47 AM »

Curse you for getting my hopes up! :MENDOZAAAAA:
Logged

Friday

  • Admin
  • Tested
  • Karma: -65374
  • Posts: 5122
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1074 on: November 12, 2009, 05:54:53 AM »

Here, let me make it up to you.

1. Stop.

You pull into the parking lot and position yourself for a hasty getaway if need be. Grabbing your rifle and pistol, you step out of the car. The chilled air smells like rot in your nostrils.

Max cocks his head at you from the backseat. You give him a quick pat. "Stay here, boy," you tell him. Max whines and lays his head between his paws. You shut the driver's door, but leave the engine running.

Taking your time, you survey the immediate area outside the store. The suburban at the gas pumps seems to be empty. You take a quick glance inside through the side windows. The upholstery is stained a rusty brown. No keys. The front passenger seat is partially torn away. One of the tires is flat, torn open.

At the corner of the lot, the marquee with the prices for gas on display is riddled with bullet holes. At the base, the grass looks like it's been burned away. A sequined purse lays open, the contents spilled out onto the parking lot. Lipstick. A credit card. A cracked vanity mirror, reflecting nothing.

The door to the store itself is standing open. The front windows are all broken except one. You peer inside, rifle at the ready. The interior is a complete mess. Shelves thrown over, their contents smashed and trampled. In the back, you can see the cooler doors are all opened. You see a few torn aluminum cans.

Cursing under your breath, you step inside slowly, making sure to check behind the cashier's counter. Cigarettes. Magazines. One of the mags lies open, an article with the title "How to please your man" written across the top. There's a picture of a smiling woman with sparkling eyes looking up at a man whose eyes are closed in apparent ecstasy.

You head for the coolers in the back, keeping an eye on the door leading to the unisex bathroom nearby. It's shut tight. You survey the shelves behind the glass doors.

All the booze has been torn open and spilled onto the ground. There are a few sodas left on the shelves, and one section housing energy drinks has been left completely undisturbed, but without fail every single drink containing alcohol has been ripped open, drained, or otherwise destroyed.

How could such seemingly mindless creatures be so methodical? You can't quite believe it. Searching further, you find a single can of Coors misplaced behind some Pepsi. Shaking your head, you grab it and stick the can in your pocket.

Time to go. There's nothing else here you need. Heading outside, you see two figures approaching the station from across the street. Faceless. They are dark in the mist. One is a rather fat naked woman wearing nothing but pink socks. Vines emerge from beneath the paunch of her stomach, originating from you don't want to know where. The other is a man dressed in jeans and a t-shirt who appears to have a broken neck. His empty head lolls to one side.

There is a sudden scream from behind you. You whirl to see the bathroom door standing open, another Faceless, this one a short woman in a long brown coat and black jeans, advancing toward you. Her arms are crossed over her chest as is usual for Faceless.

Jesus. This is almost like an ambush. Was that Faceless in the bathroom just sitting in there, waiting for someone to come along? Or... were they waiting for you? The sound of the vehicle may have attracted them. Shit. Didn't think of that.

From your car, Max barks twice. You hurry toward him and slip inside, throwing the car into gear and gunning it. A fourth Faceless looms ahead of you in the mist, a tall white guy wearing a torn pink shirt. You cut across the grass and back onto the road, leaving all the Faceless behind you.

Eventually your heart stops pounding and you pull over to extract the can of beer from your pocket. A dubious prize for such a close call, but it's better than nothing. Ahead of you, the city proper looms.

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

1. Drink it now. Might as well.

2. Save it for when more obvious signs of crazy start to manifest.
Logged

Niku

  • MEAT
  • Tested
  • Karma: -65350
  • Posts: 6705
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1075 on: November 12, 2009, 07:39:05 AM »

ssssssssssssssssssssssave it.  It's Coors, it's not like it's going to hold us for the long haul.
Logged
i'm a blog now, blogs are cool: a fantastic machine made of meat

Cthulhu-chan

  • Tested
  • Karma: 10
  • Posts: 2036
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1076 on: November 12, 2009, 10:43:00 AM »

For all the good a single lousy can of pisswater is gonna do, may as well save it.

also  :approve: Friday
Logged

Lady Duke

  • Shiny Ranger
  • Tested
  • Karma: 3
  • Posts: 2339
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1077 on: November 12, 2009, 11:02:07 PM »

Sadface. Save it.
Logged

Friday

  • Admin
  • Tested
  • Karma: -65374
  • Posts: 5122
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1078 on: November 13, 2009, 04:36:20 AM »

Only three votes so far, so I am breaking my own rules by updating so quickly, but damn it, my muse won't sit down. The bitch is either sugar high, making the waiting for votes irritating, or in a coma, making updates impossible.

Anyway, I think most of my audience fucked off when the updates slowed to a trickle and then stopped. Here's to reclaiming them.

2. Save it for when more obvious signs of crazy start to manifest.

You eye the can for a long moment. You're not exactly sure how this shit works, but it seems like you can clear your head when it gets real bad by just drinking a small amount. If you can force yourself to drink it instead of throwing it away or whatever. It worked before, anyway.

Sighing, you put the can back in your pocket. You raise your head to look out the front windshield, toward the city. The highway stretches out in front of you like a black river through white mist. Ahead of you, you can sense the source of the pulling sensation. It's vague, intermittent, and impossible to put your finger on, but it's definitely there.

You put the car in drive and swallow long and hard. You're probably crazy for going back. No. Not probably. There's no logical reason to assume Nicole is ahead of you. The only thing you're going on is a supernatural sensation, which could be any number of ...nasty things.

"No reason at all," you say softly, and smile.

Max whimpers from the back at the sound of your voice.

You turn, and smile wider at him, grinning now.

"What do you say, boy? Want to go find our girl?"

Max barks and grins back at you.

"That's the spirit!" you exclaim, turning back around and releasing the brake before pressing down on the gas.

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

The old roads. The familiar buildings. Turning east. Figures in the mist. The dogs that watch you from the sidewalks, from the broken windows, from the gutters. They part around you, enfold you, like a family welcoming a prodigal son home.

The fog swirls and dances as you slice through it at fifty miles per hour. Wrecked, overturned cars. A logging truck smashed into the side of a building, it's cargo spilled out across the entire road like a huge broken raft. You turn down a sidestreet and continue east.

Figures ahead of you in the road. They turn and scream. You pilot between them. One reaches out with its vines and scrapes your door. You accelerate.

A huge infected German Shepard running along beside you. He howls and falls behind. Max answers his howl with his own.

You know you should slow down, but a madness has gripped you. You don't know if it's part of your infection or not, but you are not afraid. You only await what comes, and you're tired of waiting for it. You will find what you're looking for, one way or the other.

You scream and Max howls along with you. You hit a bump in the road and laugh.

"I'm coming, you bastards! I'm coming for you!" you scream.

The road disintegrates into rubble. Collapsed buildings, shattered parking lots, twisted metal and stone.

The edge.

The edge of the crater.

You slam your brakes.

The car skids to a halt with a horrible wail. The mist is thinner here. Your eyes begin to adjust. You exit the car and Max jumps out beside you. Your rifle is light in your hands.

You climb the lip in front of you, scrambling now and then. Max hops up ahead of you. You crest the ridge.

Nothing. Empty. Just rock and dirt and ruin. A blast pit of bleak emptiness.

The sensation pulls you still. You climb down into the crater. The footing is precarious but manageable. Max trots along nearby, sniffing here and there at the barren rock and broken pipe.

A broken, ruined deli. The sign is half buried in loose rock. A single picnic table lays upside down and cracked in half nearby. You bypass it, uninterested. Whatever is pulling you is directly ahead, and you are powerless to resist it now.

The center of the crater is just ahead, just out of view. You can feel it. You can feel them. They're not on the surface anymore, like at the last crater. They've burrowed in. Nested.

You're pretty damn sure what's ahead isn't Nicole, now. Part of you, a small, detached and frantic part, keeps screaming for you to turn away, turn back, get back to the car, get the fuck out of here, what are you doing, what are you doing -- but the overriding majority of you only knows a strange savage glee. You're going to look these bastards in the eye. You're going to finally face them. You're not sure at what point this urge took over and suppressed all your normal actions and thoughts, but it was sometime shortly after the Shell station.

The center of the crater grows nearer. You find yourself almost jogging. The mist forms weird figures ahead of you. You briefly wonder if drinking that beer back when you were thinking clearly would have saved you. Oh well. Too late now.

There.

You're close. The nest is just ahead. Just ahead, and down. Down deep.

You walk forward. An odd sound begins to fade into your range of hearing. You're not sure what it is. Almost like a thumping.

Ahead of you rises the mound of dirt, like a giant anthill, at the center of the crater. It is dotted with broken stone and metal. The top is dented, where the hole goes down. Where you will soon go down, to join them.

The strange thumping noise is louder. Somewhere nearby. Above. It's not just one source. Several sources, thumping like drums.

You continue forward. To your end. To your family. To your death.

Max bites your leg.

You scream in pain and fall. The red haze of strange is wiped from your mind like mud being cleared by a bucket of thrown water.

Helicopters. They are coming. You turn and run, ignoring the pain in your calf. Max runs beside you, through the wreckage.

You glance over your shoulder and see the vague outline of a helicopter directly above the entrance to the nest. Something slim and dark drops from it.

The blast wave knocks you upwards and forwards and off your feet and tumbling and heat before the sound of the explosion reaches your ears. You cover your head with your arms as best you can as the rubble begins to rain down on you. Nearby, you hear Max whimper in pain, then go silent.

Something large and heavy lands on you.

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

Something large and heavy is on you. You slowly come back to your senses.

You breath. You are in some minor pain, but nothing serious, you think. You attempt to move, and find it difficult but possible. You throw off the concrete slab that was atop you.

You glance around. Smoking pieces of rock. You see the end of your rifle sticking out from under some rubble and pull it free. You don't see Max anywhere.

Footsteps. You turn.

A man flanked by two more men. They wear black combat armor. Each carries an assault rifle similar to your own. Each wears a strange mask. Black, with a small gas mask built into the lower part.

The front man lowers his rifle and speaks. His voice is static.

"Looks like we got a survivor."

One in the rear steps forward. He twists something on the side of his head, then looks at you through the scope of his weapon.

"Should we call it in?" asks the other one in the back.

"My scopes show him infested. No point. Let's waste him," says the second guy, still looking at you through his green lighted scope.

"Any irregularities?" asks the first man closest to you.

"Nah, he's just a pure strainer," answers the second, lowering his weapon slightly, impatience in his voice.

"But he's not an imitator," the first says, his voice older, more modulated. "How is a pre-bloomer still alive, still human, this close to a nest?"

"Fuck if I care," says the second, and cocks his rifle, aiming it at you.

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

1. Shoot the guy aiming his rifle at you.

2. Shoot them all.

3. "I'm not infected!"

4. "Wait! Don't shoot!"

5. Run.
Logged

Niku

  • MEAT
  • Tested
  • Karma: -65350
  • Posts: 6705
    • View Profile
Re: The Ends
« Reply #1079 on: November 13, 2009, 10:32:04 AM »

Fuck, we've hit the Evil Military part of our tour.  .. and yet that still is somewhat relieving.

Uh, obviously "I'm not infected" is going to be a lie since they can tell.  "Wait!  Don't shoot!" is probably the only way we're going to get Don't Shot.
Logged
i'm a blog now, blogs are cool: a fantastic machine made of meat
Pages: 1 ... 49 50 51 52 53 [54] 55 56 57