Post by Mr. C on Oct 29, 2009 20:20:07 GMT -5
Attempting to stay as quiet as possible, our hero continued on down a beaten path positioned deep in a jungle. As he slowly pushed a branch out of his way, it became quite obvious that he was all alone in this world; the entire scene was dark and silent. The dark expanses of the forest stretched in every direction and he was the only man walking down this path – the rest of his strong Viking legion must have fallen before they could even reach the Hall of Hel. And there was no shame in that, in a world that was filled with the undead, the odds have been stacked against them for the days of fighting that they’ve had to endure already as they battled to the hall. And now, The God of Midgaard stood alone against the world, the world of the undead. For this realm was no longer his, it was completely and entirely over run by these demons. And while he may be alone for now, it was only a matter of time before the demons showed themselves again.
And then sooner rather than later, after one horrible misstep, a branch crunched hard beneath his foot and the sound reverberated loudly through the once eerily silent forest. For a moment, Brett looked about thinking that he’d be safe. As soon as the echoes of the snap faded, he glanced about and the whole scene was silent and still once more.
But then, as if on a delayed cue the horrible moaning raised up and the horde of demons came rushing out from wherever they hid among the trees, and hundreds strong they came down upon him, all of them stumbling as fast as their decaying bodies could manage. Brett did his best to fight back as they came down upon him but they were too much and Cross was quickly covered in the mass of all of them. And as he was pushed to the bottom of the pile of undead bodies, just when it looked like they’d all be too much for the god, the pile of zombies exploded off of Hammer as he stood strong, yelling fiercely at the beasts. Newly revived and not yet ready to give in, The Norse Hammer began to lash out with Brandrwulf in hand, taking these zombies out two at a time with grizzly decapitations of heads that were already mere moments from snapping off from their bodies to begin with.
Brett slid the steel blade through their already corroded necks, severing skin and bone with ease and sending their disgusting green gore all over the forest floor. Turning after defeating two more beasts he rammed the blade deep in to the midsection of another zombie, twisted and yanked it out through the side, eviscerating the bastard in an explosion of guts and flesh. Then he turned about once more just in time to swing the blade upward and cleave off the top right corner of another beast’s head, causing the zombie to flop helplessly over to the side, folding over the rotted corpse of another demon. And as the ground around Brett began to pile with bodies, more beasts still continued to flood in. Brett did his best to stay on top of the waves of the undead, but in the end it became too much and because of the fatigue of the unrelenting swarms and the trek he’s had to overcome thus far, he became careless. As he turned about once more, and dispatched yet another of the hundreds of zombies about him, another jumped up on the big man’s back and began to scratch and claw as it hung on tight.
Brett howled and reached back, attempting to yank the beast off of him, but he could not quite reach. And as Cross struggled to remove the attacker from him, the beast reared back its ugly, rotting head and moved in to dig its teeth deep in to the shoulder of the Viking. With lower jaw dripping with green-blood and spit, it went to devour the muscle and gore at the base of Cross’ neck but before it could bite in, an arrow flew over Cross’ shoulder and drove right in to the demon’s face – past the eye and buried deep in its brain. With a grunt, the zombie flopped backwards and hit the ground hard with its disgusting and fleshless leg snapping underneath it, and arrow still embedded with up to half the length of the shaft in its head. It twitched once and then stilled, and when Cross looked up to where the arrow came from, he could see a blond haired warrior standing atop the wall of a fortification just down the path. He quietly signaled for Cross to come, waving him over with his bow and then he stepped down from the ramparts – and Hammer didn’t need to be told twice, he took off at full sprint down the path, headed for the hall. Viking or not, he knew when retreat was necessary and with everything going to hell around him, now would be when it was.
Inside the Suicide Zone, Xplode stepped down from the crate and began to reload the sniper rifle he held in his hands. He was the one who guarded the Suicide Zone since the invasion began. He received the text message from Commissioner Warrior first and arrive first so thusly, even though he was not assigned to the job it had just become habit. It had been days since the zombies first began to show up, coming close to a couple of weeks of pure hell on earth, and for the first week, the wrestlers of The Asylum had been coming fairly regularly. Xplode made it first, discounting Warrior who assumedly never left this place, and then next was Diabolik and Urahara in their armored car. They had to dump their new-found friend Jupiter after they discovered that he actually was indeed one of the infected. Next came JDV, in poor shape and without his brother, he lost him to the zombies not too far out from Bakersfield, then came Lincoln, and the day after Warrior received a message from Jack Bull saying he’d be there as soon as he “took care of things here”… he wasn’t heard from again.
Then, things stopped. The world outside quieted and there was no one, not even zombies, coming near the Suicide Zone. For days it seemed like the world had died, swallowed up everyone. Best case scenario being that all of the zombies left on the world couldn’t find any more survivors and had starved off. The world was quiet and still for a long while. Until one day, there was a loud bang – something hit the Suicide Zone hard, and when the members rushed to see what it was, they found that The Creep and Tom Roberts had somehow survived up to this point, and actually made it to the Suicide Zone. Or, more literally and more accurately, they made it in to the Suicide Zone. When everyone went to see what the noise was, out of a station wagon that had been driven straight through the side of the venue stumbled The Creep and Tom Roberts – both severely inebriated. They were the last two to make it, at least until now.
“Xplode, man… You really think we should let Brett Cross in with us? I mean sure, The Asylum is a family and all… but this guy’s crazy! He was out there killing zombies with a damn sword!”
Vincent walked up behind Xplode as he was reloading and stood there with his arms crossed, his face full of concern. JDV, never the one to be quieted wanted answers from “The Strategic Assassin” and he had a point, Cross certainly is crazy. Vincent, though, asked the same questions about everyone who came in, and Diabolik and Urahara did the same – no one felt safe. Not even with the people they worked with, the people they used to trust their lives with. Not any more, not after the infection spread and the Zombie Invasion began…
“First of all, Brett’s one of us, Vincent. We can’t just leave him out there to die. And besides, if Brett’s survived out there for two weeks with just a sword, don’t you think you want him in here protecting you?” Xplode replied with a bit of anger, angry that James would even think of leaving Cross or anyone out there to die.
“All I’m saying is it’s too dangerous! There’s too many questions, Xplode! How do we know he’s not infected? You said it yourself, he’s been out there for two weeks! And even if he isn’t infected, we don’t know what he’s going to do!” Vincent shot back as he stepped in closer to Xplode, and the two got face to face. Tensions were running high inside the Suicide Zone, everyone was scared and all of the men were struggling to keep their anger in check, because fear was certainly a new emotion to them all.
And just as the two of them were about to trade blows over the matter, Warrior came in and separated them. Ever since everyone had arrived, Warrior had been asserting his authority, and if anyone ever questioned him, he reminded them that not only did he allow them in to his fortress, if they ever get out of this alive he controls their contracts – so no matter what way you slice it, he’s still the boss. This moment was no different.
“You two, listen to me! We’re not going to fight over something as stupid as this, and as your boss and your leader, I’m going to make the decision for all of us. Cross is coming inside, end of story. I invited him here because he’s one of us, and I invited him here because he can help out. Now get back to tightening up security here, damnit! The outside is swarming with zombies again!”
With that said, Warrior walked past them and went back to work, and after exchanging glares, JDV and Xplode each went their separate ways, too. JDV didn’t like having his biggest rival inside with them, for he knew better than anyone else how unpredictable he was, but to stand up to Warrior would surely be death. For now, he’d bite his tongue. Besides, they did need to tighten security right now more than they needed to argue. As calm as it had been, the world sprung back to life, as ironic as that may sound. Cross must have awoken every Zombie in Bakersfield on his way here and now every one of them were either laying dead in a pile outside their door, or swarming around it and either way it was bad news for them.
With a groan, Cross pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside, and as soon as he did he knew he had made it finally to the Hall of Hel. All around him was a dark, but brilliantly designed hall – stunningly detailed sculptures of death all around him. The only lights working were small torches along the walls, but it was just enough light to see, and just enough light to set the mood of the hall. This place was certainly the closest you could get to a mansion sized sarcophagus, a magnificently made morgue. It was truly a place of evil, and also a place of wondrous beauty. And as Cross marveled at the scene, a man next to him cleared his throat, and when Cross looked up he saw a handful of mighty warriors – some he had heard of, some he hadn’t. But he quickly decided, if they had lasted this long, this was indeed the company he wanted to keep, unheard of or not. Even the two drunks in the back corner were a sight for sore eyes, perhaps they would even share their mead with him when victory was had.
“’Ammer, we’re glad you finally made it! We, too, were summoned here by Odin and we’re all here to help ye put an end to Ragnarok. Hel will not overtake this realm, not while we still live!”
Cross smiled, knowing now that the task was not in his hands alone, that he’d have many men to work with, many capable men. It was as if a load was taken off of his shoulders, now. But at the same time, he felt he was better than them. He may not have been the first to make it, nor was he the only one Odin called upon for the task – but he was The God of Midgaard. Cross was interested to hear where they each came from, and interested to hear what their tales were to this point – but above all he wanted to know where he’d fit in to this whole story, and what was to come next. For if he was not alone in savng his own realm, than what was his job in the grand scheme of it all?
And then sooner rather than later, after one horrible misstep, a branch crunched hard beneath his foot and the sound reverberated loudly through the once eerily silent forest. For a moment, Brett looked about thinking that he’d be safe. As soon as the echoes of the snap faded, he glanced about and the whole scene was silent and still once more.
But then, as if on a delayed cue the horrible moaning raised up and the horde of demons came rushing out from wherever they hid among the trees, and hundreds strong they came down upon him, all of them stumbling as fast as their decaying bodies could manage. Brett did his best to fight back as they came down upon him but they were too much and Cross was quickly covered in the mass of all of them. And as he was pushed to the bottom of the pile of undead bodies, just when it looked like they’d all be too much for the god, the pile of zombies exploded off of Hammer as he stood strong, yelling fiercely at the beasts. Newly revived and not yet ready to give in, The Norse Hammer began to lash out with Brandrwulf in hand, taking these zombies out two at a time with grizzly decapitations of heads that were already mere moments from snapping off from their bodies to begin with.
Brett slid the steel blade through their already corroded necks, severing skin and bone with ease and sending their disgusting green gore all over the forest floor. Turning after defeating two more beasts he rammed the blade deep in to the midsection of another zombie, twisted and yanked it out through the side, eviscerating the bastard in an explosion of guts and flesh. Then he turned about once more just in time to swing the blade upward and cleave off the top right corner of another beast’s head, causing the zombie to flop helplessly over to the side, folding over the rotted corpse of another demon. And as the ground around Brett began to pile with bodies, more beasts still continued to flood in. Brett did his best to stay on top of the waves of the undead, but in the end it became too much and because of the fatigue of the unrelenting swarms and the trek he’s had to overcome thus far, he became careless. As he turned about once more, and dispatched yet another of the hundreds of zombies about him, another jumped up on the big man’s back and began to scratch and claw as it hung on tight.
Brett howled and reached back, attempting to yank the beast off of him, but he could not quite reach. And as Cross struggled to remove the attacker from him, the beast reared back its ugly, rotting head and moved in to dig its teeth deep in to the shoulder of the Viking. With lower jaw dripping with green-blood and spit, it went to devour the muscle and gore at the base of Cross’ neck but before it could bite in, an arrow flew over Cross’ shoulder and drove right in to the demon’s face – past the eye and buried deep in its brain. With a grunt, the zombie flopped backwards and hit the ground hard with its disgusting and fleshless leg snapping underneath it, and arrow still embedded with up to half the length of the shaft in its head. It twitched once and then stilled, and when Cross looked up to where the arrow came from, he could see a blond haired warrior standing atop the wall of a fortification just down the path. He quietly signaled for Cross to come, waving him over with his bow and then he stepped down from the ramparts – and Hammer didn’t need to be told twice, he took off at full sprint down the path, headed for the hall. Viking or not, he knew when retreat was necessary and with everything going to hell around him, now would be when it was.
Inside the Suicide Zone, Xplode stepped down from the crate and began to reload the sniper rifle he held in his hands. He was the one who guarded the Suicide Zone since the invasion began. He received the text message from Commissioner Warrior first and arrive first so thusly, even though he was not assigned to the job it had just become habit. It had been days since the zombies first began to show up, coming close to a couple of weeks of pure hell on earth, and for the first week, the wrestlers of The Asylum had been coming fairly regularly. Xplode made it first, discounting Warrior who assumedly never left this place, and then next was Diabolik and Urahara in their armored car. They had to dump their new-found friend Jupiter after they discovered that he actually was indeed one of the infected. Next came JDV, in poor shape and without his brother, he lost him to the zombies not too far out from Bakersfield, then came Lincoln, and the day after Warrior received a message from Jack Bull saying he’d be there as soon as he “took care of things here”… he wasn’t heard from again.
Then, things stopped. The world outside quieted and there was no one, not even zombies, coming near the Suicide Zone. For days it seemed like the world had died, swallowed up everyone. Best case scenario being that all of the zombies left on the world couldn’t find any more survivors and had starved off. The world was quiet and still for a long while. Until one day, there was a loud bang – something hit the Suicide Zone hard, and when the members rushed to see what it was, they found that The Creep and Tom Roberts had somehow survived up to this point, and actually made it to the Suicide Zone. Or, more literally and more accurately, they made it in to the Suicide Zone. When everyone went to see what the noise was, out of a station wagon that had been driven straight through the side of the venue stumbled The Creep and Tom Roberts – both severely inebriated. They were the last two to make it, at least until now.
“Xplode, man… You really think we should let Brett Cross in with us? I mean sure, The Asylum is a family and all… but this guy’s crazy! He was out there killing zombies with a damn sword!”
Vincent walked up behind Xplode as he was reloading and stood there with his arms crossed, his face full of concern. JDV, never the one to be quieted wanted answers from “The Strategic Assassin” and he had a point, Cross certainly is crazy. Vincent, though, asked the same questions about everyone who came in, and Diabolik and Urahara did the same – no one felt safe. Not even with the people they worked with, the people they used to trust their lives with. Not any more, not after the infection spread and the Zombie Invasion began…
“First of all, Brett’s one of us, Vincent. We can’t just leave him out there to die. And besides, if Brett’s survived out there for two weeks with just a sword, don’t you think you want him in here protecting you?” Xplode replied with a bit of anger, angry that James would even think of leaving Cross or anyone out there to die.
“All I’m saying is it’s too dangerous! There’s too many questions, Xplode! How do we know he’s not infected? You said it yourself, he’s been out there for two weeks! And even if he isn’t infected, we don’t know what he’s going to do!” Vincent shot back as he stepped in closer to Xplode, and the two got face to face. Tensions were running high inside the Suicide Zone, everyone was scared and all of the men were struggling to keep their anger in check, because fear was certainly a new emotion to them all.
And just as the two of them were about to trade blows over the matter, Warrior came in and separated them. Ever since everyone had arrived, Warrior had been asserting his authority, and if anyone ever questioned him, he reminded them that not only did he allow them in to his fortress, if they ever get out of this alive he controls their contracts – so no matter what way you slice it, he’s still the boss. This moment was no different.
“You two, listen to me! We’re not going to fight over something as stupid as this, and as your boss and your leader, I’m going to make the decision for all of us. Cross is coming inside, end of story. I invited him here because he’s one of us, and I invited him here because he can help out. Now get back to tightening up security here, damnit! The outside is swarming with zombies again!”
With that said, Warrior walked past them and went back to work, and after exchanging glares, JDV and Xplode each went their separate ways, too. JDV didn’t like having his biggest rival inside with them, for he knew better than anyone else how unpredictable he was, but to stand up to Warrior would surely be death. For now, he’d bite his tongue. Besides, they did need to tighten security right now more than they needed to argue. As calm as it had been, the world sprung back to life, as ironic as that may sound. Cross must have awoken every Zombie in Bakersfield on his way here and now every one of them were either laying dead in a pile outside their door, or swarming around it and either way it was bad news for them.
With a groan, Cross pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside, and as soon as he did he knew he had made it finally to the Hall of Hel. All around him was a dark, but brilliantly designed hall – stunningly detailed sculptures of death all around him. The only lights working were small torches along the walls, but it was just enough light to see, and just enough light to set the mood of the hall. This place was certainly the closest you could get to a mansion sized sarcophagus, a magnificently made morgue. It was truly a place of evil, and also a place of wondrous beauty. And as Cross marveled at the scene, a man next to him cleared his throat, and when Cross looked up he saw a handful of mighty warriors – some he had heard of, some he hadn’t. But he quickly decided, if they had lasted this long, this was indeed the company he wanted to keep, unheard of or not. Even the two drunks in the back corner were a sight for sore eyes, perhaps they would even share their mead with him when victory was had.
“’Ammer, we’re glad you finally made it! We, too, were summoned here by Odin and we’re all here to help ye put an end to Ragnarok. Hel will not overtake this realm, not while we still live!”
Cross smiled, knowing now that the task was not in his hands alone, that he’d have many men to work with, many capable men. It was as if a load was taken off of his shoulders, now. But at the same time, he felt he was better than them. He may not have been the first to make it, nor was he the only one Odin called upon for the task – but he was The God of Midgaard. Cross was interested to hear where they each came from, and interested to hear what their tales were to this point – but above all he wanted to know where he’d fit in to this whole story, and what was to come next. For if he was not alone in savng his own realm, than what was his job in the grand scheme of it all?
