UA-100768763-1 Jump to content

Zombie Survivor Contest - Winners Announced!


luke314pi

Recommended Posts

Nice work Earlyfrost and welcome to the forum! Your entry reminds me of that videgame Lollypop Chainsaw. Question: where'd you get that awesome crossbow?

(Part 1 of 2)

As he lay sobbing on the floor,the wretched moans of the undead are heard.....

dscf2057t.jpg

To be continued.... yes.gif

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Replies 91
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

533233_10200213949885115_160105422_n.jpg644752_10200213949765112_172147075_n.jpg

I did post the third picture in my thread yesterday, but made a note it was for the contest. Took me until today to write up the story.

“…ection seems to spread from bites or scratches. There are reports of infection in every major cit…” Vert turns off the clock radio and holds his head in pain. He thought to himself that it was odd the news was playing on the clock radio. He had always set it to a radio station that played music. As he sat up, another rush of pain came through his head. Vert immediately began to regret drinking so much his first night home for college break.


Her grabbed the remote to his stereo and tuned into his favorite station. The same new cast was playing. He flipped through several stations, all with the same thing. He turned on his television, and every channel was broadcasting the same thing. He stopped on the local news and watched in confusion as a feeling of dread overtook him.

“Reports are coming in with widespread violence in New York, Tokyo, Belfast, and other major cities throughout the world. Those affected by what the CDC is calling a fast spreading retrovirus, exhibit signs of aggression, limited motor skills, and cannibalistic behavior. Infected individuals also seem to respond to pain in any way. The virus seems to spread from fluid or blood contact, particularly from bites or scratches. The White house has issued a statement urging the public to stay indoors and avoid contact with infected individuals.” Vert turned off the television, and stumbled out of bed. He was still wearing his clothes from the night before. He looked out his window, and saw a few of the “infected” attacking a woman who cried out in pain as they ripped her apart and ate her alive.

Vert immediately went to check on his mother and stepfather. Walking down the hall, he called out for them. “Mom… Eric.” Neither responded, and Vert feared the worst. As he entered the living room, he witnessed a truly horrific site. Eric was standing over his mother, covered in blood with what appeared to be chunks of flesh in his mouth. “What the…” Vert started to say as Eric rushed towards him with a strange gait. Vert kicked him in the chest and knocked him over. As Eric began to get back on his feet, Vert grabbed the baseball bat they kept by the door and smashed him in the head.


Eric looked at Vert with lifeless eyes and snarled and groaned as he got back on his feet. Eric head leaned to the side, with a bump in his neck as if his neck had been broken. As he stumble towards Vert again, he was taken to the ground from another baseball bat hit to the head. Vert proceeded to smash in Eric’s head in a fit of rage. Vert ran over to his mother and checked her pulse. Nothing. As he stood up, his mother began to move and groan. She rose to her feet with lifeless eyes locked on her son, and snarled at him. “Mom?! Please, don’t.” Vert begged as his mother lunged towards him.

Knocking his mother back Vert reached for the bat and stood over her with his foot on her chest. His eyes started to tear up as he raised the bat and said “I’m so sorry mom. I’m sorry.” He smashed her head in, and dropped the bat. He collapsed to his knees and broke down in tears. Vert had never been a fan of Eric had not always been the best person to Vert’s mom, so having to kill Eric did not affect him the way killing his mother had. After he collected himself, Vert knew he had to think of a way to protect himself and

get to safety.

Opening up the door to Eric’s home office, Vert thought to himself that for the first time in his life, he was happy Eric was a gun nut. He found the key to the gun cabinet, opened it and checked what his options were. He grabbed Eric's Glock and .45 with the hip holsters, along with the SPAS 12 shotgun. He also grabbed a backpack and loaded it extra ammunition, nonperishable food and bottled water. Vert grabbed his phone and called the only other person he considered family, his best friend Crash.


Vert’s father had passed away and he was an only child.His mother and Eric never had a kid of their own. Vert tried calling Crash, but the phone systems were not working due to so many people attempting to reach loved ones or emergency services. Crash lived roughly ten blocks from Vert, so he decided his only option was to get there on foot. Vert knew all the shortcuts to Crash’s apartment, so he felt it would be a fairly easy trek as long as he stayed out of site of the “infected.” Given his experience with obstacle course
races and sticking to the alleyways, Vert was able to make it to Crash’s place without being spotted and no issues.


When Vert approached Crash’s place, he saw something that made him smile for the first time that day. Crash was out front with a frying pan taking on a group of zombies. Crash had always been the craziest person Vert had known, and it was no surprise that Crash would be outside fighting off the infected with nothing but a frying pan. As an “infected” grabbed Crash from the back, a gunshot went off and a bullet ripped through its head. They cleared the “Infected” and hid in Crash’s attic.

They made a plan to escape town using Crash’s neighbor’s Hummer. The two of them now travel the country looking for a place without the “infected”, and enjoying the trip along the way.

46733_207017269440658_1639386103_n.jpg

Edited by mwattsart
Link to comment
Share on other sites

ash-alone.jpg

My name is Ashley J. Williams. I work at S-Mart. Manager. One day I happened to be mopping up a spill in isle 3 when it came down the aisle. It being the hot chick from produce. I always wanted to go out with her and her she came down the aisle looking at me with a serious grin to her. Was that ketchup I saw on her? I know she liked burgers, but seriously, she’s got to not eat so messy. I mean it’s all over her chin and on that pretty blouse of hers.

That’s when I saw it. She wasn't flirting with me. Her eyes had that soulless gleam to them. Like the time you sat in your easy chair after having too many donuts. That glazed glassy eyed look. Now most times I’d go for a dame with that glazed over look, but not when they are trying to bite me. I mean, she was actually trying to bite me. Not in a hickey sort of way, but in a rip the flesh off your shoulder kind of way. So I shoved her back.

Not that I wanted to, but, she did seem kind of bloodthirsty. She kept coming at me and growling. I thought she just had a burger. She shouldn't still be hungry. I kept pushing her back. Then I thought, she’s not really alive. Ok, I thought that when I pushed her back and her arm came off in my hand.

I needed to improvise fast. She’s not herself. She’s falling to pieces. Literally. So I grabbed a bottle of Secret off the shelf. You know, Strong enough for a man, but made for a woman. What was that doing here? Someone didn't want it and just put it here. I’d have to restock that over in aisle 2 where deodorant was.

So I grabbed the next best thing off the shelf. A can of peas. The 14.5 ounce can. I glanced at the date and found it was expired. I’d have to talk to Dave about his inadequate stocking skills. I threw the can at her. I mean, no respectable customer would think about buying now that it’s expired right?

The can hit her square in the forehead. It knocked her down and she twitched. I noticed that it had embedded into her skull. Surprising that it did, since I throw like a girl. Anyway, I walked out of the aisle and over to hardware. Ok, this was a Super S-Mart. We just recently upgraded from a simple grocery store to a super version, where you could buy a sledge hammer and a watermelon. I mean, you could if you were Gallagher.

I grabbed my keys and opened the cabinet to the shotguns. I pulled out a 12 gauge Remington. Every respectable hunter used one of these things. I quickly grabbed a box of ammo. I turned around and hoisted it over my head when I saw the lumbering horde of zombies heading my way. I cried out “ It's just you, me, and my boomstick” Man, I hope I get a raise from all this….

ash.jpg

EDIT: this is a kit-bash of several figures. Arms and torso from Dale. Legs and feet from Rick Grimes. Black waist (belt) and hear and hair from a search and rescue TRU exclusive fig. Chainsaw from the only Max Zombie set ever made.

The "Boomstick", is customized from two of the rifles that come with Rick wit the barrels cut off and re-glued on to turn it into a double barreled shotgun. I removed the complete barrel off two rifles, and cut the barrels where they met at the end of the stock. I shortened one and shaved off the end so that the part that wraps around the barrel (original end of the rifle barrel) and then flipped them on their side and glued them into place to create the double barrel look. I added back in the part of the barrel that was removed from the "stock". Now it looks like a good "boomstick"

The zombies in the background are various "kit-bashes" from parts of other figs/zombies. I personally like the biker chick in the back.

Edited by lingster
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Nick the High End Collector


The sun was starting to rise as Nick was running through Facebook checking out new fan videos. There had been a rash of real amateur videos of a Zombie apocalypse since last night. Most of them were too shaky and apparently no one had learned how to focus a camera in their lives. Nick was so tired of seeing everyone randomly post up crappy vids and then those same crappy vids were getting millions of hits and apparently everyone and their mothers were inflating these joker's egos by commenting on the films. There was one though that looked like it had some production value. The special effects were really good and it almost looked real....except for the guts, Nick could tell they were using pig intestines instead. Still, it was a good video so Nick thought he would go get his friend Scuzz to show it to him.

Scuzz lived across the hall from Nick's apartment and was huge into the whole Zombie thing. Nick liked it a little bit, but was more into super heroes than zombies. As Nick was about to reach for the door knob, he heard a light knocking at his door. Scuzz would be the only person knocking at his door this early (or late depending on when you'd last slept) but Scuzz was never known for knocking on doors, usually he'd just firmly kick them. Nick looked through the peephole. For a moment he couldn't see anything then it looked like someone's head was up close to the door, then went back to black. The soft knocking coincided with what he was seeing through the peephole, some drunken guy was banging their head on the door.

Nick went to open the door to shoo this drunk out of the hallway. As soon as he turned the knob, the drunk slammed into the door knocking Nick to the ground. Looking up, Nick saw the drunk clearly for the first time....it was his friend Scuzz! He looked like he had spent the night getting drunk in a Zombie cosplay, there were fake intestines dangling by his feet and he had a mess of makeup all over his face. Scuzz started reaching down for Nick and that's when Nick noticed that he could actually see through part of Scuzz's chest! Nick scurried back to his room as Scuzz shuffled after him. Nick slammed his bedroom door closed and started looking around for something to protect himself with. As he looked around all he saw were comics and collectibles, he didn't have any tools or anything you see people using in the zombie movies, even the plumbing in his house was plastic so he couldn't even use a lead pipe. If only he had a knife or saw or........hammer......That's when it hit him.....he had a few really high end movie replicas from Compulsive Collector. They had released a line of comic movie replicas made from high grade steel. Replicas that included Thor's Hammer!

Scuzz was still banging at the bedroom door while Nick prepared himself. He had grabbed all three of the replicas he had in his collection, Magneto's Helmet, Thor's Hammer and Captain America's Shield. Nick opened the door and jumped back as Scuzz shambled through it. Nick had the shield at the ready and raised his hammer as Scuzz lunged. The hammer came down on Scuzz's head hard. He gurgled a little as Nick bashed his head a couple more times to make sure he wouldn't attack again. Thankfully, the hammer had worked like a charm as Nick was pretty sure he was working off of adrenaline right now. Nick was just starting to deal with the fact that he had bashed in his friend's head when another zombie came into his apartment. Nick had forgotten the front door was still open. This zombie was much faster than Scuzz had been and once he saw Nick, he was running into the bedroom. Nick only had time to raise the shield to protect himself. The force of the impact knocked the hammer out of Nick's hand so he had to use the shield as a weapon. Nick was able to knock the zombie to the ground then he jumped on top of him and brought the shield's edge down on his neck snapping it in half. The zombie stopped writhing beneath him and Nick got up knowing now what he had to do....he had to kill zombies using the tools of superheroes.


ZombieSurvivor01_zpsaabb35d2.jpg


ZombieSurvivor02_zps5e9467cb.jpg


ZombieSurvivor03_zps723c4125.jpg

Edited by Shogi
Link to comment
Share on other sites

post-6480-0-89898700-1361383079_thumb.jp

Hi love everyone's work so far. Here is the story of Omnimate.

Omnimate – The Origin Story

The unearthly howling was getting closer. Lucas worked feverishly, trying to ignore the sounds of destruction which signified that the zombies had broken through the outer perimeter and would soon reach the inner sanctum of his workshop refuge. Concentrate, he had to concentrate. His shaking fingers quickly assembled the final tiny plastic parts, locking them into place according to the tattered, blood-smeared blueprint on the desk in front of him: head and tail of Nightcrawler; wings of the Vulture; legs of a Dreadnought– the list went on.

He jumped at the sound of shattering glass – they’d be upon him soon. The world was on its knees, most of the population were infected and decaying. He knew the fate which awaited him, but in his final moments he had to save his greatest creation. A hollow laugh escaped his throat. He’d worked for years on this masterpiece and no-one would be around to see it. He looked down at the figure on the desk, a wild collection of the most delicate accessories ever assembled on a minimate body. He called the figure ‘Omnimate’, and it was designed to demonstrate the amazing properties of his new creation - the most durable packaging material ever made. When he thought back to all those times he had received minimates through the post from a certain major toy retailer with dents, scrapes and little bits detached, he had to choke back a tear. In his fast-beating heart he knew his creation would have made him the hero of minimate collectors throughout the world. He imagined himself giving talks and shaking the hands of grateful fans at the next San Diego Comicon - an event which would be forever cancelled...Never had a zombie apocalypse been so ill-timed.

He couldn’t let the pinnacle of his life’s work be destroyed now. Taking up the soldering iron, he put the final rivets in place. Omnimate was now encased in a package made from the most durable compound known to man. He had to hide it. A trap-door in the corner of the workshop led down to the storm shelter. Quickly he deposited Omnimate in its underground tomb. For a moment he wondered whether he should hide there too – but he knew that he had to return to the surface to move furniture over the hatch so the shelter wouldn’t be discovered. He had just finished dragging a filing cabinet into place when the door to the workshop was wrenched off its hinges. ‘Goodbye Omnimate’, he whispered and he turned to face his fate...

The years to come saw the zombie plague infect all life on earth. And the world was to learn that if there was one thing more dangerous than zombies, it was zombies who had discovered arsenals of nuclear weapons. With their fingers on the buttons, a whole collection of fingers, that is – not just their own, all life was extinguished in fireball explosions and the grim darkness of the nuclear winter which followed. A couple of months later when a meteor collision wiped every trace of humanity and its settlements off the earth, there was no-one left to note the accuracy of the saying ‘bad things always happen in threes’.

Millennia passed. The dead planet continued to turn, winters and summers came and went. All was silent. It was to this dead environment that alien visitors finally arrived from a galaxy far, far away. They shimmered and levitated their way across the land, searching for clues to show whether there had ever been life on this planet. The best super-minds from their archaeological expedition team scanned the dust and rocks trying to pick up telepathic echoes from the past. Their searches brought no results – no discernible traces of intelligence could be found. But then on a baking hot day in an area of parched wasteland in what was formerly called Minnesota, USA, they received a hit on their sensors. Something was buried beneath the surface. Carefully they bored into the ground and extracted a small transparent rectangular box. Gently, millennia’s dust and grime were removed to reveal a small perfectly preserved figure: Omnimate.

The excitement generated back on their home world was immense. Their finest scientists worked tirelessly to unlock the secrets of Omnimate and to extract it from its packaging tomb. Mind-merging conferences were held and whole communities dedicated themselves to fathoming the back-story of this remarkable little creature. Linguists pored over the symbols which were encased on a piece of card inside the packaging. After decades of study and conjecture it was a proud moment for alien kind when their archaeologists and scientists finally agreed that they had pieced together Omnimate’s history.

They were confident that Omnimate had been the greatest of all leaders of a race called Minimates who lived on a planet called The Multiverse . After all, Omnimate’s subjects had created an indestructible packaging tomb which would keep him – to quote the scriptures in the tomb – “mint in box for all eternity, or at the very least to survive shipping from a certain major toy retailer”. The rest of these noble creatures must have been destroyed by a meteor impact, but their leader’s body had been preserved. And what a body it had! It appeared to be a marvel of evolution, possessing body parts to deal with every kind of eventuality. And yet how delicate it appeared to be. The aliens, despite prizing scientific logic, were driven at their core by mawkish sentimentality. The story of the last of the Minimates moved them greatly. They cried great tears from their orifices designed for displays of mawkish sentimentality. Poor Minimates! And lo, they decided that they would use their great powers to repopulate The Multiverse with life again by creating beings in the image of Omnimate.

Dinosaurs had once ruled the earth and then it was the turn of the humans. But they were all extinct and forgotten. Now it was the turn of the Minimates to rule...

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Hi ,my name is sebastian i am from Argentina is my first contest ,the history is in google traductor but dont write in english ,sorry .....greeting 64849_296406270486010_951502894_n.jpg544490_296406460485991_971401191_n.jpg150441_296406197152684_1333209649_n.jpg

INFECTION







NAME>
Indira

Profecion HERRERO



ORIGIN> TIBET









Willing to settle aim
the shotgun at the door, while with my left hand I opened it, I was scared, I
felt my heart beat harder and faster than normal, pushing the door with my
right foot to be completely open, I saw my father's face in front of me, try to
shoot, but I just stood paralyzed, scared, sad, but deep down I knew that my
father was no longer shoot. The wall was stained with blood everywhere
including me, saw my father's face fell into pieces destroyed by the wall,
slowly while leaving a trail of blood in it, I left the room, pointing to shoot
the first thing you see move, there was the grotesque creature, ran to me, I
shoot without aiming, I saw where the shot fell just ran out of that place, I
knew I could not walk out the door just like that, I went up some stairs that
had saved my father's place and started up, after increasing the pull so that
no soul could climb to where I am.

I
went straight to my car, but to get there but I found it was a whole host of
them, apparently looking for something in my car, try to be as quiet as
possible and find another way out, I decided to jump from roof to roof, no was
very good at it actually gave me a little scared, but I knew I had to take a
chance to survive and breathe, everything looks fine, nothing could go wrong,
and jump.



I
opened my eyes, I felt a great pain in my stomach, apparently did not reach the
other roof and fell, look to my right, a human corpse on the floor., I left the
alley where he had fallen, I was back to a of these creatures, was to attack,
try to bite me, luckily I hit him over the head with my gun, stun him a little,
then shoot him in the neck, his head flew, walk a little further to the
direction from which it came this, look what a surprise, there was my car, but
the horde of these monsters that stalked him I knew he was there watching as
stupid, I ran with all my might, they persecuted me, they ran faster than I
thought model.



After
a while of running I lost, I was very tired, I heard a cry, apparently was a
survivor like me - Hey here! On the roof of the building! - Fails to capture
that building came the screams so I routed the closest I found.

It
was very dark, I climbed the stairs not the lift served me a lot, I ran up to
the roof did not want more problems, come to a small door, two small strokes
gave my life to know, check my back as I did not want more problems, a woman
answered the door. -Spend, fast-Yo I ignored him and between, she quickly
closed the door. - A new? Asked a person with a gas mask puesta.-If you are in
the street just now There was a short silence then what's your name? Asked as
he sat on the edge of the building . -Indira - I answered.There
was another short silence then. -Well will join right? Asked the sniper with a
gas mask. - Where? Interrupting I asked a little. 'All right, this is a small
organization that created some survivors, Why? To survive, "you nourish us
to us, we'll feed them to you", if you join us we would be in total sa 3, we take turns to go for food every three
days, at this time Jacob is getting food for three days, after those three days
will pass your turn. -

Edited by sebastian romero
Link to comment
Share on other sites

photo9fx.jpg

Name: Richard Fisher

Age: Not recorded, somewhere in the 20-25 range

"I knew about Zombies before it was cool."

It couldn’t have been any other day when “It” happened. The
world was calm, everything was peaceful. Richard Fisher was nothing more than a
20-something year-old fresh out of college. With a whole life ahead of him, he
had nothing to lose, the whole world was at his fingertips. His parents had
wanted him to become a successful businessman, but instead, he had became a
monster truly terrifying:


A hipster.



Richard refused to live by the world around him, finding
everything to be “too mainstream,” or “too conforming” for his tastes. He
abandoned the world around him for a life of coffee shops, and updating his
social network statuses. What was he to do? He wanted nothing to do with
anything normal, finding the world around him to be worse than something like
zombies. But then “It” happened.



He was downtown at his local coffee shop, checking his
website feeds, and taking a whiff of a mocha-frappe-double-chino, before the
door nearby rang, and footsteps came in. A figure shuffles to the cashier, who
kindly greets the stranger. What Richard saw would shock him for the rest of
his life. The man—Not a man, not anymore, grabbed the cashier, and forcefully
took a chunk-full bite of their ear. It happened all too quickly, and Richard
had no plans for this. He knew one thing, though: Everything was about to go
down, and he was without his new MP3 player.

With nothing but his satchel and the clothes on his back,
Richard quickly set out as the creature devoured the poor soul, before moving
onto the other people in the building. He couldn’t look back. He grabbed his
bike, and set out into the distance.

Already the world around him was crumbling, people were in
riots, abandoning cars and businesses, other “people” chasing after those
abandoning, overcoming the public, one after one had fallen to the outbreak.
Richard pressed on, and continued moving on, until he soon found himself alone,
in the forest, where he would fend for months.

--------------------------------------------------------

Half a year had passed from the day 1 of the infection.
Richard was now alone, having to fend for himself. He made a small camp in the
forest, far off from any traces of society, or any traces of “the mainstream,”
as Richard would call them. The last time anybody knows for sure what’s
happened is that he was atop a rock formation, trying to fire at some, when a
misfire causes them to notice him. He had no choice but to throttle back, and
make a way through a lake, back to his bike, the undead giving chase behind
him.

img6620hst.jpg

img6579j.jpg

img6588bf.jpg

img6591b.jpg

img6617k.jpg

It’s unknown what’s happened to Richard as of now. Possibly
he made a life of his own away from it all. Maybe he found a group of
survivors. Or maybe he succumbed to a messy fate of his own. Nobody knows for
sure, but what is for sure, is that he’ll never conform to the mainstream.

img6650lt.jpg

Link to comment
Share on other sites

5P-MMMV-Victory.jpg5P-Frames.jpg
I see what you think: a chubby kid like me still alive under the given circumstances? When the Plague hit, the first to go, for obvious reasons, should be the fatties, right? Well, I’ve seen that movie, too, and as much as some of those rules do apply to the real world – I always double tap! – that one doesn’t. Romero knew it better: Zeds aren’t fast runners. I’m not an athlete, but I can easily outrun a Zed any given day. Thank God!

There’s a lot of stuff you could actually learn from those old movies, books and video games. Like the books by that Brooks guy? World War Z and the Survival Guide? Boy, when the economy was still busy and running in the early days you could make a fortune selling those – which was one of the stupidest ideas ever, since money pretty soon became obsolete. I’m glad I kept those books. They still help me in tricky situations - Ben Franklin wouldn’t right?

Yes, you’re right, I’m a nerd. But you know what? I guess “we” were the best prepared for what was coming. Big surprise, but, pop culture taught us so much about the Zeds before the first one even appeared. [grins freakishly] Let me make a confession here. Don’t get me all wrong, but when I first heard about the dead heads on TV, it got me pretty excited. That was totally naïve and childish and stuff, but still. I wasn’t exactly successful in my life back then. 28 years old, had a lousy job at a video rental store and worked as a German substitute teacher at a public high school in Seattle. And I had no girlfriend – just for the record, I had one before. I’m not a virgin or anything. But, “apocalypse” had new beginning written all over it for me. At least in the early days. Later it got really ugly as you know.

What turned out to be pretty darn stupid was the idea of me running around with a katana. I mean, of course it would’ve been badass, right? Fighting Zeds with a fraking Katana in your hand! A friend of mine actually traded some really useful stuff for one of those things. Turned out, it’s not as easy to use one of those as you’d have thought. It takes years to become battle ready! Guy cut himself more than once before he ditched it. Same goes for bow and arrow. Hitting a moving Zed through the head with an arrow? If you’re not Clint Barton or William Tell, forget about it! I’m sticking to a handgun and sometimes a riffle – set on semiautomatic, you don’t want to go all rock ‘n’ roll on the dead heads. Total waste of ammo. But most important is a good melee weapon. Mine’s a hockey stick. It might not be heavy enough for a lethal strike, but it’s perfect to knock some Zeds out of your way. And it doesn’t need loading. I once went all Shaun-of-the-Dead with a cricket bat, but it’s way too short, man. You really need to keep ‘em on distance.

By the way, my name’s Five-Points. Well, it’s not my real name, but what’s real nowadays, right? I got the idea from “Zombieland”. Again. It’s Five-Points as in Five-Points, Atlanta. My hometown. And the place I’m heading right now. People say there’re still un-plagued cities on the east coast. And I’m pretty sure Atlanta is one of them. So, take care.

5P-MMMV-Helmet.jpg5P-MMMV-HackSlash.jpg

Here's the recipe.

Edited by Bob Harris
Link to comment
Share on other sites

post-7267-0-14942200-1361935065_thumb.jp

post-7267-0-69229700-1361935134_thumb.jp

post-7267-0-49317000-1361935187_thumb.jp

Zoey

Age: Early Twenties


Prolog to Left 4 Dead:



Before first infection, Zoey was a college student at Aldrich in Philadelphia.
She was there on full ride scholarship to become a filmmaker. But instead of
going to class she spent her time locked in her room, watching old horror films,
claiming to her disapproving mother she was gathering "research" for
her major. Zoey's love for the genre of horror films was influenced by her
father, Wade. Wade introduced Zoey to films such as The Evil Dead, Alien, and Nightmare
on Elm Street at a very young age, much to her mother's dismay. Wade also took
Zoey to the shooting range since she was a young girl, in the hope of one day
she would follow in her father's foot steps and join the police force. Over the
years Zoey became an expert marksman, especially with her father's hunting
rifle. Zoey’s mother, Carolyn, was always against Zoey becoming a police
officer, nor did she ever see eye to eye with her husband and the two divorced
during Zoey's third year of High school.



But now it was the end of Zoey's first semester of college.
Already in danger of flunking out her mother came down to Wade's apartment,
where Zoey was staying for a "family dinner." With Zoey's future in
the air, her parents soon got into a heated argument over what was best for their
daughter. However during Carolyn and Wade's "discussion" “an Infected”
broke in though the front door.



Wade ordered the sick man to stand down. With a billowing
shriek, the infected man attacked Carolyn. Before Wade could reach his fire arm
the infected man pushed Carolyn to the ground and sunk his teeth into her cheek.
Zoey watched in horror as the monster ripped the flesh from her mother's face. Just
then Wade blasted the creature's head clean off with his police issued 9mm. The
dead man slumped onto the dining room table in a fountain of blood and Carolyn
fell to the floor. Rushing to Carolyn's side, Wade ordered Zoey to call 911.
Running into the kitchen for the phone, Zoey could hear her mother letting out weak,
short breaths. The emergency number was busy Zoey yelled, Wade ordered his
daughter to try again. The continuous tone of a busy signal echoed in Zoey's
ear, she could hear her father in the other room, saying comforting words to
her dying mother.



Just then Zoey heard her father scream in agony. Sprinting
back into the room Zoey witnessed her mother jumping on top of Wade and taking
a bite out of his throat. Pushing Wade to the ground Carolyn began beating him
to death. In seconds the struggle was over, Wade lay motionless on the wood
floor. Covered in her ex-husband's blood, Carolyn stood and turned to face her shocked
daughter. Blood trickled down her lips and dripped off her pale face. Zoey
froze in horror, only being able to whisper the word "Mom?" With a
wail of animal rage, this thing that was once Zoey's mother descended upon her.
Zoey screamed as she stumbled backwards. That's when the monster’s head
exploded in a burst of gray matter and its body tumbled to the floor next to
Zoey.

Looking up Zoey could see her father leaning against the wall, with a
smoking pistol in his hand. Zoey rushed over to him. She could feel the tears
start to roll down her cheeks as she looked at her father covered in his own
blood. Through stammered breaths and tears, Zoey told her father he'd be all
right; all she had to do was get the first aid kit. That's when Zoey's father
said, "Remember all those zombie movies I snuck you into, and remember the
part in all of them when they had to shoot the one guy before he turned?"
Zoey knew what her father was asking but she couldn't speak. As the tears
rolled down her father's face and mixed in with the blood smeared across his
skin, he handed his daughter the 9mm. "I love you, Zoey." he said.
Zoey could hardly see the pistol in her hands though the blur of tears welling
up in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. The metal of the gun was cold to
her skin, the trigger smooth. "I love you, Dad."

Edited by Cdog1992
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Lucifer.jpg

So you might be wonderin’ to yourself, how does a Zombie outbreak start? Some kind of goop on a meteorite? Mad Cow Disease? Horse meat inside your Big Mac? Well, friend, I can tell you the answer, and I assure you, it ain’t what you’re thinkin’…

You see, I used to play lead guitar for the world’s greatest rock band. I’ve been to every god-damned nook and cranny on this planet, and played for Kings, Queens, and Presidents. If you can name it, I’ve no doubt seen it, eaten it, snorted it, injected it, or f*cked it.

5 years ago, the Health Protection Agency contacted me about the results of an STD test I had taken, and wanted to take some blood to run more tests. I let them run their tests. Unknown to me at the time, one of the scientists was the husband of some tail that I got backstage at a concert one night, and that experience ruined the poor girl in his eyes. He took my blood and began to run tests of his own.

Long story short, this Zombie outbreak is the result of some jealous c*nt that had access to my blood, the knowhow to make some kind of disease and enough equipment to turn it into a WMD.

He released this virus at one of our concerts, he just sprayed the s#it into the crowd. It was during our encore. I saw people’s faces melt right off in front of me. My band mates turned into creatures and attacked me onstage. I could still see their faces when they started biting me, but you couldn’t believe my surprise when they exploded right on stage. Something with my blood didn’t react well to the monsters, and at that moment, the others left me alone, like they could smell that I wasn’t food. They would walk right past me to attack other people.

I soon pieced together that these things would listen to basic commands I gave them, and like dogs, I started training them. Soon I had them bringin’ me basics like food and booze. London was a bloody disaster at this point, so I took what I wanted and during a supply run, I found that commands I taught any zombie had somehow been learned by the rest. The one thing I can’t stop them from doing is killin’ humans, when a zombie gets near a human, it tunes me out. So here I am, with an army of killin’ machines that listen to every command except “stop”.

To quote some lyrics that c*nt Mick used to sing,

“So if you meet me

Have some courtesy

Have some sympathy, and some taste

Use all your well-learned politesse

Or I'll lay your soul to waste

Pleased to meet you

Hope you guessed my name.”

I’m Keith Richards, former lead guitarist for the Rolling Stones, but you can call me by my new name:

Lucifer, Zombie Overlord.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

A59D124D-51D0-4F02-945F-9C6B01AD9C47-829

766616EF-705B-44D6-B3E6-1FAE05DADE45-829

72CBE2F7-E62F-47F1-A15E-4814A5A2F70B-829

My Name is Daryl Dixon. I am writing this as a record of those of us that are here and if we should happen to not survive another attack from Woodbury. There are 11 of us total left; Rick Grimes and his two children Carl and Judith, Hershel Greene and his two daughters Maggie and Beth, Glenn Rhee, Carol Peletier, a woman who goes by the name Michonne, and my brother Merle. Things have become hostile at the prison since I’ve returned with my brother, and it seems like Rick, our leader, has gone off the deep end. We have all been through extremely hard times ever since the end of the world came but this is the first time I’ve been truly afraid we might not survive. We invaded Woodbury to save our friends a few days ago who had been kidnapped by none other than my brother. He is stubborn and hard headed but I think he has done what he did in the past to survive. Two days ago the leader of Woodbury named the Governor and a bunch of his men paid the prison a visit and killed our friend Axel. They then decided to drive a truck full of zombies into the walls for the group to deal with. Had we not arrived when we did Rick would probably have ended up dead alongside Axel. We all have done things we aren’t proud of and no one is immune to the acts of savagery we have had to succumb to in this world. My hope is I am writing this for no reason and hopefully our last visit with a former member of our group, Andrea, will help to diffuse this deadly situation with Woodbury. We are hopeful, but from what Merle has told me about the Governor it looks like this might be our last stand. We have fought off hordes of the undead, thieves, and even people we once called friends, but pitting 11 people with very sparse ammunition against a whole town armed from a military instillation against one another leaves us with very low odds of surviving. If you are reading this all we have ever wanted to do is survive and we have done everything we could to keep ours safe. Good luck to you and may God have mercy on us all.



These are some of my first customs. Thanks to everyones advice posts out there that helped me to create these!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.


×
×
  • Create New...