Compiling ideas for Zombie fluff.

[messyart]

Do it! :3

[messyart]

Creation of a Cyber zombie;
The DNA that created the zombie plague is weak when passed on by indirect contact [IE, bites, etc]. It will cause varying effects on lifeforms. Humans suffer intensely violent fits as their bodies are "rewired". Animals mutate almost randomly [some examples, such as black rats and European hares seems to fall into the same zombie-like state as humans, possible chromosome level connection] and more often than not can be compared to a multitude of the monsters in the movie "The Thing".

But with direct contact, the DNA can cause far more extreme mutations of even non-organic substances, like metal. It seems to assimilate the molecular structure of all it contacts, shaping it in a seemingly pre-considered form. Such as shielding, armour and even dens.
Within a week, the meteorite that struck London, England, had "grown" a five metre high nest, of a similar structure to corral. It consisted of concrete, steel and simple dirt.

The effects of the "goo" (as it has been nicknamed by most) do not have a particularly great reach, a hundred yards at the most.
The site in Krasnoyarsk Krai had been witnessed growing at a daily rate to cover this area with a fine mesh of dirt, wood and metal.

The mutative effects on living tissues seem incredibly random when within proximity to the goo, and most examples seen of unfortunate victims reveal unmoving, paralysed forms of flesh, almost melted together with patches of the ground they trod on.
On rare occasions, the mutations are much more controlled. Soldiers ignorantly exploring the sites, touching the goo that seeps from the meteorites and finding the agonising fits distracting them as their fingers dissolve into their weapons and armour, eventually dissovling those, too. Some mutations have a degree of consciousness afterwards, some are even capable of firing the weapons they once wielded, now through their rotting flesh.

And even more rarely, the mutations create something almost... Evil. Creatures with a disgusting drive, a willing and intelligence that seems to imbue them with individuality. Combined with bizarre mutations, such as limbs that seem capable of firing some form of projectile (Some examples have been met who seem to be able to rapidly fire an almost-infinite number of steel bolts from their palm. Possibly through powerful muscle contractions within their forearms.) and bodies filled with incredibly lethal gasses (again, examples have been found to suggest that sometimes, gas-mains have been corrupted, pouring explosive compunds into the very veins of the mutations).
The range of mutation seems inexhaustible, but while so, it seems that encounters with these creatures are incredibly rare.

Even so, it's undebatable that to meet one, no matter how crippled or avoidable it may be, is a truly terrifying moment.

[messyart]

I spent a while.. Writing..

"I don't really like to drink..." she said, nervously.
Punk nodded patiently and lowered the bottle he had offered, picking up the rifle she had laid on the floor.
"I recognise this.. Where'd you find it?" He said, fingering the maple stock of the rifle he'd bought just weeks before.
She shied away, turning to see the face of Indigo looking up with a big grin.
"Hey. I'm Indigo. What's your name?" the little girl asked, before softly "oohing" and stroking the womans hair.
Punk patted his daughters hand down, giving her a discerning stare.
The woman crouched down to meet Indigos' eye-level, poking at her chin as she replied.
"My name is Gwen. Everyone calls me Winnie though, so I'll let you, too" she said sweetly, with a wink. She looked up, seeing Punk avert his previous gaze down at her cleavage.
"And annoyingly" she began, tilting her head defensively. "my surname's Chester".
With a not-so-subtle cough, Punk muttered
"Can see why"
Gwen raised her eyes skyward, looking at the gun before slowly scanning her eyes to his knees, then upwards.
"I... Used to follow your band. I heard you'd survived, and... I kind of found you..."
Punk closed his eyes and sighed deeply, putting his hand to the bridge of his nose

"But I didn't follow you about! I'd never like... stalk you! I'm not crazy!" she said abruptly, looking about the floor as she scratched through her hair.
A soft smirk spread across his face until she looked up at him, when he put on a forced glare of fake concern.
"So how did you work out where you'd find me... And how did you even get hold of my phone number?" he asked, pulling out his mobile and peering through the various missed calls.
She looked down to her knees again before standing up, finding her hands taken in both of Indigos as she looked up at her with a smile.
"You like dads music? I don't sometimes but sometimes I do!" she started quickly, as if interupting herself. "sometimes it is screamy and loud and sometimes it's all like DUM DUM DUM..."
"That's enough" He interupted, pushing a finger to her lips and picking her up, laying her over his shoulder as he repeatedly tickled her sides.
"NO, NO NO NO, LET ME DOWN DADDY, NOOOOWWW" She screamed and wailed between bouts of laughter, wriggling free and pushing herself backwards and onto her feet. She kicked his shins as she blushed and ran off to Reggie as he stood outside of Punks hallway, laughing at her punishment.
Punk turned to Gwen as in the distance they heard a thud, a brief shout of "Don't laugh at me" and Reggie, gasping and running away from the angered 12 year old.
"Now. I know someone broke in here. I don't mention it, because I have enough ears about that SOMEONE would tell me, if they knew who did it.
Which means you must be the prettiest loner I've seen since London got its shit fucked in. Now tell me where the fuck you got my number, how the fuck you knew where I live and why the fuck you wanted so badly to be near me."

Gwen reeled and started flicking her gaze wildly all about the room as he stared her down. He responded quickly to her panic, laying a hand on her shoulder, easing his already-gentle grasp as she flinched in fear.
"I am not going to hurt you. You stole nothing... but that gun. You moved nothing... I just want to know what the hell you were doing. I know... you couldn't have known about Indigo, so I won't... Rage at you for endangering her, but damnit..."

His reassuring hand was brought back to him swiftly as she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around him, squeezing him in a hug.
"I'm sorry... I am so sorry I just felt so fucking crap when I heard everyone was dying..." she replied in muffled tones as she tried talking into his shoulder.
He pushed her back softly, looking into her eyes as he nodded his head as if suggesting for her to carry on.
"I was wearing a shirt, it had your band name on it.. Someone in one of the communal safe-zones a couple of miles further in told me he'd heard you had been spotted alive, that you were fine..."
He raised an eyebrow, and felt a rush of ego as he considered people talking of his band.
"And?" He asked, stroking her back as she squeezed him more, tears slowly running from her eyes.
"I asked if he knew where.. He gave me a few streetnames, they were all wrong. I looked for survivors, asked about, they all seemed to know about you..." she paused, looked down and turned away. "I found out where you lived and came here.. You weren't in and I was scared, maybe you'd gone out, died, maybe I was too late... So I got inside, I looked around, I found things that made me believe you might be fine. I knew I couldn't stay, I didn't want to seem too psycho, I didn't want to scare you away or bother you so I found your number on a phone and kept it, I wanted to make it seem like fate had brought us together..."
As she finished, curling up on the floor with her hands over her eyes, Punk was left with a concerned glare, looking out into the room they were in, wondering where she'd looked.
"I understand." He said, softly. Gently he knelt beside her, wrapping an arm around her, picking her from the floor and sitting her on a chair.
"It's not safe for you. Or me." He said, softer still. "I lost someone REALLY important to me. I have a little face still reminding me of her, every day. I cannot cope with keeping you around unless you REALLY try to keep this down."

She turned and looked him in the eye, stunned. A slight smile hit his lips and he looked down to the side, nodding.
"Listen, it's really not hard to work out why you did it all. It's really not. I'll be damned if I know why you're after me at all, I mean, Steam was always pretty damn handsome."
She smiled, looking into his eyes and shaking her head slowly.
"No... No, I knew when I watched you play in my local. You beat that crap out of that bass, but you did it so lovingly."
He snorted in response, trying to hold in a brief spot of laughter.
"You're crazy alright. 'Think you're obsessing a bit. No way you'd just see something like that."
Briefly they both laughed, but soon Punk begun feeling something inside of his gut and tried to pin it on hunger.
Within his mind he could tell something was amiss, something he could never willingly admit.

The moment of silence that followed was broken only by Gwen putting her hand on his. He looked up quickly, with a suprised expression.
"I'm sorry." She said, calmly.
He raised an eyebrow, about to open his mouth before she continued.
"About your wife, I mean. I doubt it's easy."
He turned to his side, seeing a cabinet with her photo in the frame.

"I didn't say good bye.. The guys rushed me. We got in the van, I waved, she didn't even get to see it. She'd looked back to call Indigo. First I heard of my street getting fucked up was a friend crying on his phone. I just heard screaming and wailing and crashing of those fucking buildings as they all started to crumble. Then the news. I thought it couldn't get worse. I was heading back when we heard this shit had gotten out. About the army evacuating, about the cordons and lock-up. I thought I'd never get in, and I just knew... I'd never see her face again.
When we hit the fences, my van got jumped by cops, they dragged us out, told us no-one's getting in, no-one's getting out alive. I never want to feel that feel again. Just... Skull. Against my guitar. I beat the living shit out of them all and climbed the fence myself. The guys all said they were staying out, wanted to keep their lives. Turned out, Reggie just couldn't stay behind, followed me in a few days later... But yea, by then I found my street. I found the bodies, but none I loved."
He paused, a soft whimper choking his words.
"You don't need to..." Gwen started, before she was interupted.
"No, it needs out." He blurted, swallowing his words before trying to let them out again.
"I found her, stumbling about. I'd killed a few by then, I'd worked out how to deal with them. But when she saw me, when she ran at me, I just froze. She rushed me, I knocked her down. I just... Stared. It took me a while to just find it in me to do what I had to, by the time I got her up, I heard other voices. Just when I got my fucking bat ready to give her peace, I saw her spray up in blood as some fucking pig fucking cunts started blazing her with the guns they'd managed to steal from some tripped-up prick and they just cleaned her up... I didn't even get to see her out for myself. I had to see her scatter half way across the fucking road as they fired until they heard their guns clicking. They came up, all high and fucking mighty on some ego rush, thinking they'd saved my life."
He paused, as a bout of rage begun to swim about his mind.

"...And then what happened?" Gwen asked, her face curled up in a sympathetic pity.

"And then I found out how fucking hard a mans skull is on two different fucking occasions. I can't even REMEMBER how much they screamed when I left them bleeding in the fucking street, but I know I broke every bone in their bodies for what they did to her."

Gwen rolled back in her seat, taking her hand from his shoulder as his fingers began to crack into fists.
Noticing her concern, he tried his best to calm down, curling up his legs and sitting in a tightly-wrapped bundle of limbs as he tried to control his breathing.

"It wasn't anyones fault. And she'd never hold it against you. For the outcome, the process or for not getting to tell her you love her before you went away..." She said, as she stroked his scalp.
He looked out at her from the side, peering between a gap to see her looking in. He closed his eyes, trying not to see her face in Gwens'.
"What did you last say to her? What were you doing before you left?" She asked, biting her lip to shush herself as she realised she was asking the wrong questions.

"'You a lady, or are you a skank?" He asked, rudely. She looked about slightly before looking back at him with an expression of suprise.
"Ok.. Perhaps I don't dress to impress, but don't think of me like some kind of trash." She replied, grabbing her low-cut top and pulling it close to her neck.
"Then that makes this easier. We made love. Happy?"
A moment of thought stung in her mind before she briefly imagined the scene, crossing her legs as she tried to get more comfortable in her chair.
"Good. Well I know what you're about to say, and you can keep your "then you left her good memories" bullshit because no. I should still have her here, by my side. If I'd not gone, we'd still all be fine and fucking dandy."

He felt a hand stroking down his back repeatedly, patting softly as it came back between his shoulders.

"That kind of explains the reputation I suppose..." She said, as she stood up and walked out to find the others.
Softly he muttered to himself, repeating her last words a few times before jumping up and following her, grabbing her arm to spin her around.
"What reputation?" He demanded, looking down into her eyes as she smiled in reply.
"Everyone told me to stay the hell away from you. They said you were just a psycho. Killed coppers for kicks, went killing zombies just to "feel the bones breakin'". I didn't want to believe them, I tried to think you'd just had a few bad run-ins and they stuck by you, but no. It turns out that you're the sweetest guy I have ever met and you just believed you'd lost it all. I bet you thought Indigo was gone too, didn't you? So you didn't bother looking?"
She was quickly stopped as his grip grew tighter.
"I looked.
I searched that street for three days. I got guys together and we searched that whole fucking area for another week and there was nothing. No kid that matched her. I looked for her until I gave up hope. So yea, you're right. But so're they. I fucking love killing these things. I love breaking them apart and I LOVE seeing their faces curl up when my bullets start biting harder than they ever could. And why not? This is the best this fucking life's gonna be from now on, so we might as well get used to it all."
As he finished, loosening his grip, Gwen smiled wider.
"Sometimes, we don't ask the wrong questions. We're just looking for the answers we already know."
With that, she turned, shook off his hand and walked back to her seat, sitting down and looking up at him, patting on her lap.

"I'm not sitting there." he said abruptly.
She raised an eyebrow and scowled, he nodded and approached quietely in response, shutting the door behind as he went.
"I'm not sitting on your lap. I'm too heavy, you'll get hurt." He said, sitting down on the seat he had occupied moments before.
In response, she stood, bouncing across and sitting quietely on his, instead. Briefly she opened her mouth to speak, but stopped so she could jump up and straighten out the skirt from under her bum.
"You know why I looked for you." She said softly, as she led her body up against him.
He sighed briefly, before leaning back, wrapping his arms around her as he closed his eyes.
"Don't read anything into this kid, sometimes we just need a cuddle." He mumbled as he rested his chin against her shoulder.
She smiled, stroking his cheek as she snuggled closer to him.
"Couldn't help but notice, you're a good shot." He muttered suddenly, grinning as he looked up at her.
A slightly grim smile leaned across her lips as she belly-laughed.
"I'd come back from Afghan the day before the meteor hit." She replied, as a secret tear clambered down her cheek.
She was shocked as a gentle finger rushed up, to wipe it away.
"Bad memories huh?" He asked, grabbing her head and resting it against his chest as he sat up. With a mumble, she nodded.
"Met someone out there. First time I've ever really felt love, it was... Amazing" She said slowly and softly, before continuing. "I watched him die on our last day of active duty... An RPG hit him... It didn't explode. But it didn't need to." She said sullenly, breaking down in tears as she curled her legs up against her chest.
Punk briefly caught a glimpse between her legs as the split in her dress parted across her thigh, and spent a moment in an almost childish state of awe before snapping his gaze and resting his lips to her hair.
"I'm sorry." He whispered, squeezing her more before scooping her up and putting her down on her feet.
"But we just can't find anything between us. It's bad enough for me, you're too young to be letting yourself follow emotions."
Her sobbing slowly grew louder until she put a finger in her mouth, biting it slightly to silence herself. She wiped her eyes and looked into his.
"Sometimes... We just... need... a cuddle..." She murmured between sobs, before slowly walking back to the door.

Punk stood, watching, as an agonising guilt rushed him. Inside he could hear a world of arguements wailing.
"She's gone, move on, find more and enjoy life! Never let the memory die... Do nothing to ruin it. No, you swore to stay with her forever, now do so in memory. But... No, forever, till death do us part... But her death should never NEVER have been... but it was. The permanence, the... Endless loss. You need to step through it, you are not alone, never alone. But she'd never forgive you for being with another.. No, she would want this. She'd want you to move on and be happy. Remember her and the love, but be happy. But what if she's just crazy? Just another insane fan? But she speaks such poetry, so much romance in her thoughts... No, you read too much into it all. Far too much. I wish I knew what to do, for myself.. And Indigo..."
He shook his head, closing his eyes as he tried desperately to decide what was right.
"Gwen" he started, watching her turn just enough to stare from the corner of her eye.
"There aren't any spare beds."
She looked down as her mouth sunk deeper into its' already-sullen expression, and tears begun to well in her eyes as she pictured living out alone, on the streets.
Slowly he stepped up behind her, rummaging in his pockets for the keys to his safehouse. A heavy whimper repeated as she tried to breathe, following his footsteps towards the front door until she realised they had stopped far sooner.
She turned, seeing him holding up the keys he'd taken from her earlier.
"I was going to give you these, but if you want to leave, that's fine, too..." He mumbled as he watched her eyes widen quickly.
"There aren't any spare beds, but mine's big enough for two, and.. "Sometimes, we just need a cuddle"." He finished, and a frail smile was cast upon his lips as Gwen smiled through her tears, now crying with a reassured joy as she ran towards him with open arms, squeezing him tightly as he did the same.
"No funny business. And wear clothes." He said sternly, and she smiled wider as his own grin grew.
"Thank you, really..." She replied, as she followed him into his bedroom for a guided tour.


"Well. That's unexpected." Blurted Reggie. In his distraction, he loosened the grip he'd been using with his shoe to trap Indigo inside her dresser, feeling the door slam open into the side of his head as the young girl jumped out with a playful, angry glare, hitting him around the head with a doll.


The night seemed to pass more quickly than in recent weeks, and Punk woke to birdsong as his barred window hung, open. Looking down, he found Gwen, laid out across his chest as she blissfully slept.
Content that he had behaved, he closed his eyes once more, to round off the morning with a few more hours of sleep before he gathered his friends together for some home comforts.

[radwell]

you should rely right a book, messy
 

[messyart]

Does that mean you think it's good, or simply that it's too long?

[Apocalypsedreamer]

It means that it is fantastic and i would buy it and read it.

A.D