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       #Post#: 42--------------------------------------------------
       Origins: Logan Coolridge
   DIR By: captainsolomon
       Date: December 4, 2013, 7:07 pm
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       The smell was the first thing to hit his nostrils. Horrid,
       absolutely horrid. He began to approach the man who was face
       down at the table at the back of the bar. He grabs him by the
       shoulder, and hears a soft groan. He shakes him a bit, and his
       head rolls to the side to reveal the puddle of puke below his
       face and all over the floor.
       "Horace, You got another drunken bastard passed out back here.
       Might wanna tell Johnny to bring the mop and bucket!"
       Logan shakes his head in disgust. Its not like he was far off
       from being in the same boat. He was already quite a few shots
       down at this point, and the whiskey was already getting into his
       system. He walked into the bathroom and up to the sink. He
       stared off into the mirror, ashamed at what he sees.
       "What kind of monster have you become, Logan? You wander around
       here anymore, drinking every damn night. Because of HER? Because
       of the job?! Why?! Why would you let it all bring you down so
       hard?"
       The answers wouldn't come. They probably never would. He turned
       the water on and splashed its cool relief on his face. There was
       no true relief. Logan looks one more time at his reflection
       before sighing and walking out of the bathroom.
       Logan makes his war back to the bar. He grabs the shot glass and
       downs it quickly. Horace, the bartender and owner looks him
       over, then goes to grab  fresh whiskey bottle.
       "Hey Horace, mind just selling me the bottle? I wanna go home."
       "You know I can't do that Logan."
       "Come on! You know I wont rat you out. Ill give ya 25 for it.
       You know you paid 15. you just made money. Its Sunday, I can't
       go to the--"
       "Alright, alright, just pay up and go home alright man? Geeze,
       you're too good at that guilt trip shit! How did you ever lose
       your girl and job anyway?!"
       "Too soon Horace..."
       Logan sets his money on the table and walks out the door.
       Outside the streets are empty. In this town, on a Sunday, that's
       the norm. He hops in his car and begins to drive home. He kicks
       on the radio and is shocked by what he hears. Alarms. The
       warning systems are wailing. A robotic voice is coming through
       the speakers. Something is turning people into cannibals? Making
       people go insane? Is this real? It can't be. As Logan approaches
       his home, he sees people on his street. running. Panicking.
       Looting. Something is wrong. And Logan hand only one though in
       his hazy mind...
       Where's Rachel?...
       He quickly whips his car around and starts to speed down the
       highway. If something was really wrong, and he didn't make sure
       she was okay, he would never forgive himself. She may hate him
       for his actions, but through everything they had been through...
       He couldn't let her ache. He couldn't let her come to harm...
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