Young Writers Society

Welcome to a world infested with the undead- a place which zombies roam and cause havoc and destruction in the society of the living. You are in a small society with other survivors holding out against the infected threat. The world has turned against you, and now you must fight back.

Standard chit chat rules reply.

Let's start.

Twentieth of August 2013


Zack Wiles

I plonk myself down on the hard, cold stone fountain; although the Contra was a safe-haven for those in need of recovery, it did not change the apocalyptic and damned mood that the entire world has adopted. The early golden-orange morning sun begins to peer through the enormous windows, that would have originally been constructed of metal framing and beautiful coloured glass, a magnificent combination of swirling oranges, greens and blues, but has now degenerated into a compound of wooden girders and thin yet effective layers of what seems like panes forged with cling-film. Admittedly, the place is certainly better than any other locale in the rest of this dead zone; not flooded in blood or guts or vomit; not eerie to the point where one thinks regularly of just placing a bullet into their skull; not open to constant attacks from those abominations that the infected have begun to transform into.

I shudder at the thought of close scrapes with witches and tanks, both of which I have not seen since my arrival in the huge atrium, thank God. Louisville wasn’t exactly close to Savannah, but Georgia and Kentucky are only separated by a thin line between Tennessee and Carolina, I have met folks in this sanctuary that have travelled all the way down from Minnesota, and survived, somehow. I’m used to travelling up and down the country; that was what came with being a professional wrestler, but without cars or planes or coaches, a hundred miles is a long, long way, let alone a thousand. My mother always said that my generation took things for granted, which is true to an extent, but the world seemed much bigger now, as if nothing would ever be obtainable. However, these thoughts depress me, so I dismiss them from my mind and get back to planning my actions for the next seven days:

It would be wise to remain in the Contra for another four days, that’d be two days of work, hopefully in the staff section; I don’t fancy going back out there any sooner than necessary. Then, at the meeting post, I might be able to fasten together a team that is willing to work towards the evacuation point in Miami, hopefully them all being experienced in the horrors that lurk outside these walls. What scares me more than the possible failure of arriving at the evac point was that maybe I might not find anyone willing to help me; who’ll want a bald, middle-age man who has little skill with firearms dragging them down? That will furthermore condemn me to serve in this place for God knows how long, by which time my mind will have caught up with the survival chances of my proposed trip, and then I’ll be too petrified to ever leave this place.

No, I think, determined to avoid the possible outcome that has now tainted my mind. I will find a team and I will get to the evac point, no questions asked. If anyone wants to tell me I’m a fool, they can go to hell, because I am getting out of this shit-hole if it’s the last thing I do.

So are there other people randomly milling around, or is Zack the only person in there at the moment?

Random people milling around. It's just early morning.

Alright, good to know.

Sebastian;

I sat underneath a fake tree in the food court, writing in my journal. I was the only one in my family to be in the mall that I knew of. I hadn't met any familiar faces or made new friends, which didn't bother me that much. I decided to stop writing for a bit and take a stroll through the complex. I sighed, So this is what I get after twenty-one years of life? To be stranded in a mall complex on the verge of some sort of zombie-creature-thing apocalypse. Twenty-one year old females should be out in college, starting a career, not in this situation. I pushed my self-pitying thoughts aside. Screw the career and college; my main focus needed to be surviving and helping others do the same.

I sat down next to a man on the edge of the water fountain and zoned out, deep in though. I wonder section I need to be filed under? I suddenly remembered.

^Thanks for posting, however please post in present tense
!

I'm pretty sure I did...? Did I make a mistake somewhere in that post?

Taryn-
I sat down quite close to where they served food, I can say those much about this place it may be extremely boring but the food is good. I looked around wondering about all the people that surrounded me all wearing old tattered clothes, what was their story? Did they have any family left? Were they planning to leave like I was? I just can't stand sitting here doing nothing all day I would much rather face the infected- much more lively. My grandma (if she were still here) would have called me crazy would have said that I was too young "your only 19 you can't face the undead on your own" I can almost hear her voice. Well I won't face them on my own, I will find someone to help me.