Young Writers Society

Hey guys,

Ok - a quick run through for those that haven't read The Cell by Stephen King.

It's set in now time (like, this very minute, today), and is about a virus that is transmitted via cellphones. You make a call or answer a call on a cellphone (landlines and walkie-talkies are safe) you get infected and turn into something akin to a zombie.

Throughout the book, the transformation is explained as so:

The human brain is just like a computer hard drive; in a severe accident, the memory can be wiped. The virus transmitted though the cellphones strips the brain of all it's memory - wipes the whole hard drive clean - leaving only the central core. The Darwainian theory is that the homo sapiens central core is madness. Thus, when the virus enters a human being and the memory is totally wiped, the person goes whacko (laymans terms, of course).

So we've got all these phone-crazies running around, killing each other, Normals (the people not infected), and Half-Halfs (people who only OVERHEARD the cellphone call, and thus only exposed a certain amount).

There's gonna be a lot of blood and guts in this one (I hope), kiddies, so if that ain't your cup of tea, go and make some coffee elsewhere.

A day after the initial bloodbath, the phone-crazies start to move in flocks, and are less violent towards each other (they still like to kill one another, and if they see a Normal, they go straight for 'em).

Five days after the Pulse (the day everyone went crazy), the phone-crazies have officially adopted the Day as their rule, and Normals are forced to creep in the night. They are also known as Flashlight People, as - duh - they use flashlights.

No, animals are not effected by the Pulse/virus/signal.

RULES

1) As gory as one wants. There will be writers out there who can write gore, and other that can't - if you know you can't, please don't - it'll only annoy the people who can

2) Individuals start out separated. It won't be convincing if 10 people suddenly meet up in the middle of a ruined town, eager to join forces to kill the zombie phone-crazies.

3) No killing off other players. If anyone's gonna kill off players, it will be me, and there will be a legitimate reason. Eg. your character is weak, and obviously needs to die to feed the plot. sorry - you get issued a new one, or you can make your own. again.

4) Not too much swearing, please

5) Have fun.

5.5) There has to be at LEAST 2 girls.

5.75) If you feel you must write a sex scene, please ask permission from the character's writer before you do so.


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Name: Billy Ray

Age: 32

Appearance: Brown hair, medium height, non-descriptive features, blue eyes

Occupation: Used Car Salesman

Brief (and I mean brief) Bio: Lives in New York city (where this storybook is gonna be originally set - we can move it somewhere else later), no wife (divorced), no children, pet dog: Sheela.

Personality: Annoyingly optimistic, erratic behavior (the reason his wife left him) and a fear of confined spaces.

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No need to wait for a full cast, get started straight away. Here, I'll even set the scene.

cheers!

jai

Billy Ray turned his gaze away from the busy New York traffic to smile at his potential customer, "This baby cruises like it's on rails, huh?"

The business man attempted a smile, "Er, yeah - rails."

Billy felt like smashing his head against the steering wheel, "I mean of course, it's real smooth." Idiot, he thought to himself.

The light went green, and Billy expertly shifted though the gears, "So, tell me, do I have a sale?"

The man beside him clutched the open window, as they sped around a corner, and gasped out, "Would you mind slowing down, please?"

Billy immediately eased off the acceleration, "Just showing you what she can do."

He turned another corner, making a round trip back, sighing inwardly. He ignored the sound of the business man's catchy ring tone, damn noisy things. Good thing he couldn't afford one, otherwise it'd be smashed to pieces by now.

Billy Ray kept his eyes on the road as Hot Shot Associate flipped open his smart slim mobile cell phone.

"Gregory Johnson here. . . Yeah. Yeah. No. Definitely not." Billy felt rather than saw the other man shoot a glance at him, and guessed (rightly) that the business man was talking about him and the car, "Yeah. Yeah. Noe. Yeeaaaaah. . . ."

Billy glanced at the man alarmed by the sudden slur in his words. Gregory Johnson was staring at Billy as if he didn't have a clue where he was, or what he was doing. Muted voices came out of his cell phone, but he ignored them, still staring at Billy.

He started to feel a bit creeped out, "Hey. . . If you don't wanna buy the gal, that's fine by - "

Gregory launched himself at Billy, his arms outstretched, hands clawed inward.

Billy lost control of the car, and his foot slipped of the acceleration and onto the break. The cars' tyres screeched against the road, and Greg's grip slipped off Billy's neck as the car rolled over the cub and onto the pavement, before finally coming to a stop.

Out of the corner of Billy's eye, another car went screeching past, crashing headlong into the oncoming traffic. Gregory bit into Billy's arm. Billy shrieked and grabbed the closest thing near him - the spare set of car keys. Holding the car key by it's fob between his thumb and forefinger, he began to stab it into the man's head.

Greg roared - not in pain, but in anger, momentarily releasing Billy from his lockjaw bite.

Billy removed his foot off the break and kicked the heavier man off him, watching with half a mind as the man fell into the back seat, thrashing around. Billy desperately searched for the door handle. The car, being an automatic, slowly inched it's way along the sidewalk, people screaming to avoid it.

He finally found it, pulled on it, and found himself deposited in the sidewalk. He kicked the door shut, and rolled away before the moving car could run over his legs. Inside the insane business man was hollering and banging his fists against the windows, not seeming to notice the open one opposite him. Why doesn't he just get out?, Billy wondered.

A woman screamed near by, and he saw her go down, tackled by four or five different men and women, tearing at the screaming woman's clothes, biting chunks out of her.

An explosion made Billy flinch, and he saw that a car had run straight into a brick wall.

The car he had been trying to sell had made it's way back onto the road, with Gregory Johnson still in it. Billy saw the man (no - no longer a man) beating against the rolled up window with his cellphone.

A man ran past, torn clothes flapping, blood on his chin and hands, clutching cellphone tightly in one hand.

Sirens and alarms klaxoned around the city.

Billy Ray watched as person after person jumped off balconies and fire escapes, falling through the air like acrobats, until hitting the ground like bags of soup.

"NOOOO!"

Billy turned at the ear splitting screech. A man dressed festively was warding off a crazy man wielding a cellphone and a brick.

Billy Ray realized all this was very wrong. But all he could do was sit down on the sidewalk, and watch it happen. Hoping that this was not real. That this was not the FUCK real.

Name- Kyle Hil

Age- 29

Appearance- http://mattandrews.deviantart.com/art/M ... n-47391620

Occupation- Detective

Bio- Father was a cop, but murdered during an investigation when he was young. Ever since then he has vowed to find the one who killed him.

Personality- Calm and collective. He's very good at reading the situation.

<Billy Ray>

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Billy Ray started, and rolled to his feet, ready to attack if it was a phone-crazie.

"Whoa there - easy dawg." The man said, moving his coat aside so Billy could see the New York City Detective bage clipped to his hip, "Any idea what's happenin'?"

Before Billy could answer, a phone-crazie came running at them, screaming, "Kash-na! You kash-na! RAST! Rake? Raken rast-na!" A shard of glass was held in one hand, blood seeped down the man's arm where the glass wash gashing his wrist.

The Detective calmy withdrew his gun from its holster, and gunned the crazy down.

Looters running by cringed at the sound of gunfire; one slipped in the fresh crazy's blood.

The Detective arched an eyebrow at Billy Ray, "You were saying?"

---------

thanks for joining piepiemann *sighs* noone else seems to wanna. . . . so lets get started!

Kyle holstered his gun and looked around. The place began to get quiet. In a way it was relieving, but also disturbing at the same time. He let out a hand to the man to help him up. He began to speak, but Kyle wouldn't let his guard down.

"All I know is that man went crazy after he answered his cell phone."

"Cell phone huh?"

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, but we need to get out of here. We shouldn't stay out in the open."

<Billy Ray>

Billy nodded, "Well. . . I guess you're right."

Another phone-crazie went screaming past, and Kyle "slapped leather" and shot the woman in the head.

"C'mon - let's go."

"Go where though?"

"I know a - "

BOOM!

The impact of the explosion threw them both through the window display; Billy Ray ended up in a clothes rack, bras and underwear surrounding him.

Kyle wasn't so lucky, he had landed on a shoe display. Groaning, he fished out a 3-inch high heeled shoe from under his back.

"What blew up?"

Kyle and Billy looked outside in astonishment.

It was a plane.

Name- Jillian Caine

Age- 17

Appearance- Tall, tanned and has blond hair.

Occupation- Pop Eye's Chicken Fryer.

Bio- Is poor and has lonely because her family were murdered (in Iraq) when she was 7.

Personality- Fidgety and can't sit still, is unnaturally enthusiastic and bubbly.


* * * * * * * * *

Jill opened her eyes and immediately felt a pain in her head, like someone bashing a rock against her eardrum. She clicked her seat belt off.

Moaning and wincing she dragged herself out of the large wreck, which had once been a plane.

She smiled, and laughed crazily.

"I'm ALIVE!!!!!"

Immediately she started skipping around. She stopped suddenly noticing two pairs of eyes watching her in disbelief.

She heard one of them mutter,

"You think she's phone-crazie?"

The other man replied and lifted his gun,

"I'm not sure."

Jill's eyes widened and she yelled,

"What's phone-crazie? NO! DON'T SHOOT!"

Name- Tyler Hamilton

Age- 22

Appearance- Fairly tall, with pale skin and dark brown hair

Occupation- Legal Student

Bio- Goes to university in New York City. Had psychological counselling prior to the Pulse.

Personality- Mildly bipolar, prone to mood swings, and can be slightly psychotic from time to time.

* * * * *

Can someone find a way to fit my caracter in? I can't think of anything.

*I'll bring you in here, Billy (Tyler)*

<Billy Ray>

Billy Ray watched the girl dance in the street after crawling out of the wreck that had been a plane, "You think she's phone-crazie?"

Kyle replied, lifting his gun, "I'm not sure."

The girl's eyes widened as she saw the gun, she yelled, "What's phone-crazie? NO! DON'T SHOOT!"

Billy glanced at Kyle, "She's talking coherently. . . not like a phone-crazie."

Kyle didn't reholster the gun, "I agree, but. . ."

The girl ducked. A man with a suitcase hurried past.

Kyle continued, "People don't just survive plane crashes."

Billy, "So you're saying she MUST be a phone-crazie?"

The man with the suitcase noticed the girl cowering in the rubble.

The two men watched as the SuitcaseMan and PlaneWreckGirl started to talk.

"Well - they're not attacking each other. . ."

"And we should move around in big groups. . ."

Kyle and Billy Ray made their way over to the plane wreck.

The girl cowered some more as she saw them coming, putting up her hands.

The other man turned, took one look at Kyle's gun, and jumped behind the rubble with the girl, his briefcase dropped onto the pavement.

"Woah up." Billy said, "We're on the same team here."

The man, looking slightly abashed stood up and stuck out his hand, "I'm Tyler."

The girl, covered in grey soot also stood up, "Jill."

"Kyle and Billy, no that we all know each other, let's get the hell outtah here."

Billy shrugged at the new comers, Kyle was the man with the gun.

*Thanks SM*

<Tyler Hamilton>

Tyler nodded at the detective's suggestion, it seemed like the best thing to do right now. He began to reach for is briefcase.

"You won't be needing that anymore, Tyler, judging by the way things are going here."

Tyler looked up, shrugging. He stood up and followed the group, keeping a close eye on Kyle.

"Is someone going to fill us in?" Jill asked, speaking for both of them.

Billy turned, "In short, it looks like anyone who uses a mobile goes crazy. I don't know why, and I don't know what else triggers it, but judging from what I've seen," he said, pulling up one bloodstained sleeve to show nasty looking bite marks, "We'd do well to avoid these bastards if we can."

Tyler fished his phone out of his pocket and hurled it at the plane's wreckage, staring at it as if it might try to do something. He thought for a moment, staring at the carnage in the street. "We probably won't be able to run forever, and I don't like the idea of fighting a bunch of those...things with only your gun to protect us, Kyle. Does anyone know the closest place for some more guns, or something?"

Kyle looked around. He spotted a street sign, "The mall. It's only a few blocks away from here. We could lock all the doors. it'd be safe there, for a while any way."

Jill came up and grabbed Kyle's arm, "I hope so."

He pulled her closer still scanning the area, "Come on, I'd rather not spend the night out here!"

The other two nodded and they started to make their way. Jill was a little shaken up, so Kyle tried to comfort her, though he may have scared her in the first place. "I apologize for the gun. You just can't be too careful right now."

Name: Commander Halyen Richards

Age: 62

Occupation: Army Commander, Head of the CPV (Cell Phone Virus) unit

Appearance: Tall and lanky with gray hair. He has a large scar across his face streching from his nose to his chin.

Brief Bio: Haylen could see the virus coming for along time, but the government ignored him. The only reason they made that department was to humor a war hero. When the virus did come, he was nowhere near a cell phone. He and his men took it upon themselves to cure the world of the disease and save those that were in danger.

Personality: Stern yet funny. Haylen knows how to fight a battle in the most tactiful way and how to keep his mouth shut even under extreme torture (yes, he has been tortured) yet knows how to make everyone smile. Even though he's getting up there age wise, he's still strong and agile, both mentally and physically.

<Jillian>


I tripped and stumbled and grabbed Kyle's arm for support and said, "I hope so."

He pulled me closer still scanning the area, I attempted to get away, but the man had a grip like a vice, "Come on, I'd rather not spend the night out here!"

The other two nodded and they started to make their way. I was a little shaken up after getting away from Kyle, his hands had cut the circulation from going to my head, so Kyle tried to comfort me, thinking he was actually comforting me, though he had attempted to scare me in the first place.

"I apologize for the gun. You just can't be too careful right now."

Uh-huh weirdo, I thought to myself

I ran away away from him and took the gun,

"Ha, look at me! I'm a crazy gun-murderer on a killing spree"

I waved it around, my finger slipped and i pulled the trigger. this caused a giant piece of rubble to come tumbling down, revealing many people on the third floor of a building.

All the guys looked at me, whoops thats sure to get me in their bad books for a while.

The people on the floor jumped down, Bill-something or rather said,

"Uh, Jill, something tells me that those people aren''t very sane."

I nodded, we all began running.