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       #Post#: 37--------------------------------------------------
       Z-Day Scene (not any relation with C-jay's)
       By: Lunaris Sentinel Date: October 13, 2010, 9:47 am
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       I was pissed. I mean severely pissed. My best friend,
       Joseraphous--nicknamed "Jojo" by myself--for seven years, dead;
       torn limb from limb by a Witch.
       I was so angry, I swear, I nearly shot the other Survivors with
       me, blasting a great big hole in their face. But alas, I had to
       take my anger out on the horde of zombies that had been
       attracted to the blazing alarm of a nearby car that our
       not-the-sharpest-spoon-in-the-knife-drawer member, Joseph. There
       were several times where I contemplated using him as bait for
       another horde, but a close friend, and fellow Survivor, Vivian,
       told me that was a "horrible thing to think". Pssh, whatever.
       The guy was an idiot!
       At the moment, we were in a street in abandoned-Sacremento,
       California. Blasting any and all zombies we saw. I heard the
       distinctive scream of a Hunter, I raised my gun, and blasted it
       while it was in mid-pounce. Its motionless body flew and landed
       at my feet. I then heard the distinctive scream of a.... Joseph.
       Ugh. He got grabbed by the tongue of a Smoker, and was now
       dangling over the edge of a bank. Vivian saved him, shooting the
       tongue, then pulling out her pistol and shooting it in the head,
       it exploding in that puff of green smoke. Stupid Joseph.
       "Brendan!" I vaguely hear Vivian yell at me through the gunfire
       of the auto-shotty in my hands, "the horde is all dead! You can
       stop shooting now!" It was? I hadn't realized while using the
       shotgun in my hands as an escape to reality. My eyes were
       actually closed during the entire assault. I opened then, and
       ceased firing. She was right. All of the zombies were dead. At
       least three or four dozen of them lying on the ground in front
       of me, motionless; most of them with missing limbs, heads, and
       enormous holes blasted through their bodies. I smiled at how
       many I had killed.
       I turned back to my teammates, and placed the gun on my
       shoulder, and smiled triumphantly to everyone there. Vivian
       shook her head in disappointment, though I could see a faint
       smile gracing her lips. Another teammate, and the probably the
       youngest one, Mikayla, stared at me in horror, her eyes nearly
       doubled in size, and her mouth hanging open. Though she wasn't
       scared; she was surprised. She wasn't easily scared, so her
       seeing my going in blind fury while blasting away at zombies was
       no shock to her. She was just giving my that look because of how
       many I had cut down.
       "What?" I ask, innocently, stifling a burst of spontaneous
       laughter that as building up in my throat. The looks they were
       giving were funny! (Especially Joseph's; the look on him was
       priceless. He looked half ready to puke, faint, or both
       (whichever came first).)
       "Brendan, we love you 'n' all, but please, when your angry, take
       your anger out on the Tank or Witch; but not the Horde," Vivian
       chuckled, "barely any of us got to shoot even one of--" She
       didn't finish when Mikayla screamed with excitement and charged
       at me.
       "That was so fuckin' awesome!" Mikayla cried with excitement,
       interrupting Vivian, running as me with insane speed, and
       crashing into me, tackling me to the ground. Wow... I must have
       really impressed her.
       "Okay, okay, OKAY!" I said laughing, then pushing her off me
       with the third 'okay'. "So... Where to ne--" Suddenly, I
       stopped. Not because something interrupted me, but because I
       heard the faint whining noise I know all too well. A Witch. My
       voice then dropped down several decibels, and I clicked off my
       flashlight. "Guys... I heard a Witch... Turn off your lights,
       and be quiet." I growled, and quickly reloaded, and cocked my
       gun, getting ready to crown the bitch that killed my best friend
       (it more than likely wasn't the Witch that killed Jojo because
       when before she lastly slashed out his face, I shot dead in her
       own ugly-ass face, blowing a hole in it).
       "Brendan, don't let your hatred of the Witches cloud your
       Judgement!" She scolded softly, putting her hands on her hips,
       and staring at me like an angry mother.
       "Yeah, yeah whatever..." I mocked, rolling my eyes, and then
       creeping forward, following the signature crying of the Witch.
       It was very faint, but I had a very strong hunch at where it was
       at:
       My old house.
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