-  [WT]  [PS]  [Home] [Manage]

Posting mode: Reply
  1.   (reply to 22649)
  2. (for post and file deletion)
/elit/ - Erotic Literature
  • Supported file types are:
  • Maximum file size allowed is 5120 KB.
  • Images greater than 200x200 pixels will be thumbnailed.
  • Currently 3729 unique user posts. View catalog

  • Blotter updated: 2018-08-24 Show/Hide Show All

There's a new /777/ up, it's /gardening/ Check it out. Suggest new /777/s here.

Movies & TV 24/7 via Channel7: Web Player, .m3u file. Music via Radio7: Web Player, .m3u file.

WebM is now available sitewide! Please check this thread for more info.

It's the End of the World as We Know It Phoenix 14/10/29(Wed)17:58 No. 22649 ID: 653aef

So I've been meaning to write a story for this board for a while. A couple half-hearted attempts later, I've finished the first chapter! Woo.

I don't know what tags to mark this as, especially since I don't know what any of the tags mean. If you don't like stories with underaged girls, don't read this. If you don't like stories with a super long build up, don't read this.

Let me know what you think, I want feedback because I've never shown anyone my erotic literature before and I don't know if it's even any good. Also, if you have a suggestion I don't mind hearing it, I think I have a general idea of where I want this story to go but I'm not really sure.

Enough fucking around. Chapter 1, go.

* * * * *

"Dad! Look out!" "Oh hell, Matthew! The door is giving way!!!" "My arm, my fucking arm! Oh my g—"

He woke in a sweat. It was bad enough when he was awake, but now their deaths haunted his scant sleeping hours. His brother, his wife, his son...

He checked his watch. *Two in the goddamn morning... not like I'm going to get much sleep anyway.* He stood up from the old cot, stretching slowly and hearing some of his joints pop. He wasn't old, but he wasn't quite the teenager that had joined the Marines nearly two decades earlier. With age, he liked to tell himself, came experience. Maybe that's why he was still alive.

It wasn't precisely a zombie apocalypse, like in all the movies. The hordes of people were still people, of a sort, and they certainly weren't dead. In fact, they seemed even more alive. Sharper senses, better stamina... and an insatiable appetite to match. Oh, and they were pretty good at taking a bullet or two and staying upright.

After the initial flight and fight to survive, after Matt had a chance to observe a few of the "things" from safety. He even had a chance to watch a man "turn," another frequent scene in his nightmares. They were mainly dormant during the night, but still somewhat aware of their surroundings. The not-zombies would stand or slump over where they were when the sun went down, and would rarely stir until well after sun rise. A careful person could walk within a few yards of a dormant one and live. When the sun was up, however, it was another story. They possessed heightened hearing and sight, maybe even smell, and the feeblest among them seemed as strong and fast as a professional athlete in his prime. On the other hand, they lacked much higher brain functions. They seemed to lack the ability to communicate, or to think of anything besides feeding. They recognized other infected humans and would avoid their own kind, but anything else that moved was fair game. Matt had seen two of them corner a rabbit and tear it apart with their bare hands. A man could feed a dozen, and was easier to hunt as well...

Shaking his head in an effort to clear the cobwebs from his mind, Matt reflected on what he needed to do that day. He studied the rough map he had drawn of the surrounding neighborhood, something he had drawn up a few days ago. He had divided the area into different sections, and each day he would bicycle out to a new section to see what he could find, whether it be supplies or survivors. There wasn't much of the former to be found, and none of the latter.

His rifle leaned against the wall, next to the cellar steps. He tried to push the thought from his mind, but every passing day made the prospect of swallowing the barrel more and more attractive. *At least I wouldn't become one of them if I did...* But it wasn't in his nature. He was too much of a survivor. Even after three different near-death experiences in Afghanistan, Matt was still upright. It would take an apocalypse to kill him... oh, wait.

*The sun's still a long way off,* Matt thought as he glanced out the small basement window, *might give him enough time to clear the entire supermarket.* He would have to be quick about it, though, so he got to work. Before he left, he applied a fresh coat of WD-40 to the old bike's moving parts, especially the brakes. Slinging his ruck sack over one shoulder and his assault rifle over the other, he picked up the bicycle and climbed the steps.

It had been only one week since the infection had suddenly swept through his part of the country. There was next to no warning, just a call in the middle of the night from one of his few friends from the corp, telling him vaguely what was coming. In under an hour after hanging up the phone, his small home city had become a battle zone, two separate fires raging in different parts of the town and most of the population either gone, dead, or turned. Occasional explosions still rang out, almost as frequently as the piercing screams of the latest victims, but that was becoming less frequent. Still, in the few days since he found himself in an unfamiliar neighborhood, in a stranger's basement, Matt was making the most of it. He couldn't stay in town, but he wasn't sure where he would go. He had no solid long term objective, but his short term was clear: gather enough supplies to get the hell out of Dodge. The sun was getting closer, so it was time to get to work.

The supermarket lay less than three blocks away, but it wasn't a straight shot. As Matt emerged from the cellar, he allowed his eyes to adjust to the near-twilight. The cellar opened into the fenced-in back yard, and Matt was once again fortunate to not have any unfriendly company waiting for him. He walked to the street, saw the coast was still clear, and mounted up. He started down the street, his eyes constantly scanning. A hunched over figure that could have been an infected squatted on the sidewalk, but it barely stirred as Matt coasted along the street. He rounded a second corner, then nearly fell off his bike. There, gathered loosely across the street, was a legitimate horde.

Slowly and deliberately, Matt dismounted from the bike and began to back away. He carefully lay the bike on its side and crouched behind a car, never taking his eyes from the road. Unless he was miscounting, there were 15 infected all told. It was the largest group he had seen outside of the turmoil from the first days of surviving. Before Matt could even begin to process his toughest and plan his next move, he caught a motion out of the corner of his eye. *It's too damn early for one of them to be awake... what the hell?*

Matt's position behind the car allowed him to see all four directions of the intersection behind him. With the horde in front of him and his new home off somewhere to his right, he now turned and looked at the new disturbance 50 ft. to his left. In the dull light it took him a moment to realize what he was seeing. *Fucking hell, that's a man. It's... it's a healthy man!* The man stood at the end of a driveway, a bag in his hand, and scanned up and down the road. Although Matt could see the sleeping horde, the man clearly couldn't. The man turned around, beckoning back at the house from which he must have emerged. Three more figures came out, carrying their own luggage. Although he couldn't tell because of the dim light and distance, it almost seemed like a typical "nuclear family" from their build and the way they walked. The "father," as Matt assumed, stretched out his hand towards one of the two female figures, the second male figure in the rear. The quartet crossed the road, and from his distance he could hear them talking low. The only word he could make out was "keys..."

*Oh fuck.*

Indecision paralyzed Matt. If he tried to call out to them, he would alert the infected horde to his position. If he tried sprinting for them, he risked the same and might not make it in time. And if he let them make their mistake, it could be fatal but allow him to continue on to the supermarket. His inability to act decided for him, and Matt didn't budge as the man pulled out a set of car keys from his pocket. Unconsciously he held his breath with every little noise, eyes flitting back and forth from the family to the horde, waiting to see what would happen. The group of four piled into a mid-sized sedan, as casually as if they were heading out for a weekend vacation. It wasn't until one of the family slammed their door shut that Matt began to see motion. It wasn't until the engine started up that they really began to wake up. The sedan lurched forward, the headlights washing across the road, and the infected sprung into motion. Almost as one, the pack sprinted car. Matt could hear the muffled screams over the impact of bodies as the infected barreled full speed into the vehicle.

Matt found himself with his gun brought to bear on the fracas, but he still hadn't pulled the trigger. The gun shots would bring every creature down on them for a mile around, it would be foolish to open fire. The glass of the driver side window shattered and the screaming became suddenly clearer. A door on the opposite side opened and Matt could see someone trying to make a break for it, only to be brought down by three or four leaping figures. Matt squeezed the trigger thrice, sending one of the infected falling to the ground. When about half the pack turned at the new sound, Matt briefly thought, *I could have thought about that at least once more.* He steadied his rifle on the hood of the car behind which he was still crouched, taking quick aim and dropping whichever targets showed an interest in him. When he had brought down seven or eight, he reloaded his rifle and stood up, advancing on the car while firing. About 30 ft. away he dropped to a knee and stopped firing, scanning for any more motion. There was none.

He quickly turned in a circle, but saw no approaching figures. He strained to listen for the howls of more that he couldn't see, but he was slightly deafened from the short firefight that had just taken place. Still holding his weapon at his hip, he sprinted over to the bloody scene. The first thing Matt noticed was the mess in the front seat. A few of the infected had punched through the driver side window and the windshield, their corpses littered the hood and two more bodies were strapped into the seats. Matt ran up onto the grass to the body lying on its front side and turned it over. It was a young man, *No older than my—than my son...* Matt thought. He knelt next to the body, the scenes from a different fight flashing through his mind as he stared at the boy's face. He didn't know how much time he lost in thought, but as he regained his senses he noticed a soft noise. Quiet sobbing... coming from the car. Slowly, with his rifle slung back over his shoulder and his hands splayed in front of him, Matt approached the still open rear door. The only survivor, the source of the sobbing sounds, sat in a tightly curled ball in the back.

"Hey, kid, are you hurt?"

Anonymous 14/10/30(Thu)16:39 No. 22660 ID: ccbe4a

Please be a girl, please be a girl...

Anonymous 14/11/01(Sat)00:45 No. 22682 ID: e299b5

mooore please

Phoenix 14/11/03(Mon)15:23 No. 22731 ID: 653aef


it's actually a dog with rabies, it bites Matthew and the story is over. no, just kidding, it's a chick.


I will! I work a shitty 3rd shift job, so I'm pretty wiped out every day I work. it's a 5-day-a-week job, so I will have 2 days every week to write, and I'll try to have 1-2 chapters done each week. the only problem is that my days float so I can't say "update every Friday" as much as I'd like to :( anyway, expect the next post soon. thanks for the interest!

Anonymous 14/11/24(Mon)05:33 No. 22867 ID: e299b5


Anonymous 14/11/26(Wed)21:12 No. 22873 ID: 92b8d1


I know this has only just started, but already I can see the concept has huge potential. I'm really looking forward to future installments and seeing where you go with it

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 14/11/28(Fri)18:55 No. 22882 ID: 653aef


Thank you so much for your support. I'm just dropping in not just to say thanks, but to let everyone know I'm not dead, give an update, and to ask for your help. Oh, and to try out a secure tripcode, lets see if it works!

First of all, yes, I am alive. No I'm not wandering in some post-apocalyptic wasteland or whatever some ***other*** authors say. It's simply a combination of real life bullshit on top of wicked writer's block. I have been inspired, though, and I think you'll like it.

I have another chapter half-written, but I'm probably going to junk it or at least edit it a lot because of a new direction I think I'm taking. I have a general idea of how this episode is going to go. And, to clarify my terminology, an episode contains multiple chapters. At least that's how I'm going to categorize things from here on out, meaning that the first post is E01.CH01 so to speak. I also have a really awesome idea for a second episode, so I'm really looking forward to writing the next few installments.

Last on the agenda, my questions to you! I'll list them in no particular order.
1. Do you have any music suggestions? Music is big for me, I neeeed it. I'm currently listening to the soundtrack from the video game Last Of Us on repeat, but I could use some more tunes. Please post some suggestions, something along the lines of this Apocalyptic Zombie Movie theme. And it would be even better if you post a link to a respectable torrent website. That would be much appreciated!
2. Plot suggestions? I am open to your ideas and would love to talk one on one about different suggestions you have! I've made my email available so that we don't spoil anything down in the comments. If you include the words "7chan" or "elit" in your subject I'll be sure to reply to you... but probably not too promptly. I'll do my best to check it regularly.
3. What are your thoughts on alternate chapters from the perspective of our young heroine? I've been bandying this idea around in my head... the pro is that it would allow me to really flesh out the story and deepen its impact, the con is that I was never a pre-teen girl so I have a big limitation in how authentic I can make it seem. If you want me to try, I can give it a try, but I'm a bit hesitant.
4. Do you want to appear in my story? Again, use my email, it's better to have this kind of conversation one on one. But, if you send me a character, I could incorporate him/her should the chance arise in the course of my writing. *Send me a character?* you may be thinking. Well, let me explain. Simply send me an email detailing your character's characteristics (appearance, demeanor, etc, anything you find relevant). Hell, you can send me a picture to use as inspiration. Anything you don't specify I'll fill in on my own. I think it could be fun if you're reading along and then BAM! "Oh hey there's a guy named after me oh damn he just got eaten to death. Well that was cool." So if you want to die a gruesome and horrible death in a loli elit story set during the end of the world, just write me an email (and don't forget "7chan" or "elit" in the subject)!
5. Do you have any questions at all? If you want, you can email me. Or if it is easier, simply reply down below. I can try to clarify anything, I can give you some more details if it's relevant and if it doesn't give away any spoilers, or I can simply answer questions about myself if you really want to know (you don't, I'm boring). You can ask me anything, just don't try to get me to dox myself... I'm trusting you...

Alright, enough of that bullshit. It's time for some coffee and I have a story to write. See ya later!

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 14/11/28(Fri)19:34 No. 22883 ID: 653aef

Oh yeah. Shout out to Uncle Rick. Dude, your shit is the bomb. If I had one email from this post I would wish it would be you, it would be awesome to bounce ideas off you and get your opinion. Just sayin'. Hi.

Ok. Back to work.

Anonymous 14/11/29(Sat)08:45 No. 22886 ID: 332f1f

idk I always associated burial (artist) with zombie apocalypse type stuff, I guess the sound of hyperdub and notzombies just go together well for me

but also this is raw and I want moar please

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 14/11/30(Sun)23:42 No. 22890 ID: 653aef

Thank you for the suggestion! I'll have to check them out coming up. And yes, dear reader, I have some moar for you.

This chapter is a few hundred words shorter, I figured you might like a more frequent update albeit shorter. Hope it works for you folks. Also, I have a little image file to share with you, it's a floor plan for a house... no spoilers, I don't think, but I just felt like whipping it up and thought you might like to check it out. It's pretty shitty looking, though, don't judge...


Oh, and keep the emails coming! I have gotten a couple, it's pretty awesome getting feedback from you guys directly.

Anyway, without further ado, Chapter 2!

* * * * *

The young girl peered up at Matthew. Her eyes bright with tears, she only glanced at him before tucking her head back behind her knees, her arms wrapped in front of her as if a shield. He knelt next on the curb next to the open door, only just out of reach. He tried to keep the adrenaline out of his voice and, as calmly as he could muster, spoke to the girl.

"We don't have much time, we can not stay here. Come with me if you want to live." The girl looked at his outstretched hand and tremblingly reached her own hand out to meet it. "That's a good girl, come on." He gently began pulling her towards him, she began scooting forward. "Listen, kid, you need to look in my eyes and nowhere else. Even if I'm looking at something, you keep your eyes locked right here. Got it?" Still wordless, the girl nodded. The two of them stood up, standing on the small strip of grass beside the sidewalk. He looked around, trying to plot a course of action, when he heard something in the distance. Unless the zombies had learned to drive, there were people approaching... and approaching fast.

Putting his hands on the girl's shoulders and looking down at her, Matthew spoke quickly. "Alright kid, which number is your house? We need to get off this damn street." She mumbled a reply and looked down at her feet, so Matt shook her shoulders. "Eyes up, remember? And speak clearly."

"Four-oh-eight," she replied, right before a fresh batch of tears filled her eyes and a sob wracked her body.

*Fucks sake. What the fuck did I get myself into?* Matt scanned the houses across the street, finding the one he wanted. "Take my hand, close your eyes, and don't open them until I say. Got it?" The only reply was a nod, but she slipped her hand into his and shut her eyes tightly. The pair picked their way across the street and pushed open the slightly ajar front door. Matt found himself in an average living room, the walls plastered with photographs. In front of him were some stairs. He let go of the girl's hand and climbed the steps, two at a time, and unslung his rifle. His instincts told him to find a vantage point, so climb he did.

At the top of the steps he paused to catch his breath. He had three choices, so he chose to go left. A door on the left end of the hall opened up into the master bedroom. The early morning light shone through two windows, lighting up the interior. A bed was framed by the windows, dressers and a closet to his left. A door, probably to a bathroom, was in the opposite corner. Matt hopped over to the window directly in front of him, crouching and looking outside. Any moment and the car he heard in the distance would be on top of them, and he couldn't be sure if they were friendly or otherwise. The sound of soft footfalls came from the hallway, the young girl rounding the corner. It was Matt's first opportunity to really get a look at her.

She wasn't as young as he first thought, if she was a teenager then she must have just recently become one. Her face showed traces of baby fat remaining, but now he could see that her figure was closer to the early stages of puberty. In the dawning light he could see her hair was a true deep red, not brown like he first thought. Her eyes were medium dark, hazel or maybe green. He also took into account what she was wearing; a loose flowy blouse, a pair of those stupid "capri" pants, and shoes that would be more sensible for walking around the mall.

She stood in the doorway, staring at Matt. Or, more likely, staring at the gun he held in his hands. With his back to the wall, Matt took a glance over his shoulder out the window. He looked back at her, searching for words. *I don't have time to baby-sit. I need to get out of this alive, and I need to be honest, it is not critical to keep her alive. Got that, self? Not. Critical.*

"Ok, kid," he spoke harshly, still a little out of breath. "You are going to need to listen to me carefully. When I tell you to do something, you are going to need to do it, because I want to stay alive and I think you do to. Now come over here and stay low."

The girl moved to comply, a little hesitantly. She didn't say anything, but from the look on her face it was clear she was confused and more scared than ever. She crouched down next to Matt, unsure of how close she wanted to be to the rifle. Her head was perfectly framed by the window, so Matt had to say something. "No, kid, get over there. You don't want to be seen from the street, do you?"

"I don't?"

Instead of answering, Matt opened up the window about a foot. As soon as he did, the sound of the approaching engine became more clear, and the girl's eyes went wide. She backed up until she was sitting in the corner, then curled up into a ball. Matt held his gun close, peering out the window. Before long, an older model Jeep Wrangler pulled into view, slowing to a stop a few feet short of the scene of the crime. Two men got out, observing the remains.

The driver gave a low whistle. He began to circle around, looking at all the bodies. The passenger, who held a shotgun in his arms, began picking his way to the car. "Look, these two aren't zekes."

The driver stopped and looked at his partner. "Say what?"

"These two fuckers, they're even buckled in. Looks like they were going somewhere... dumb fuckers didn't even see the zeke."

"Have some respect for the dead, Jim. Fuck's sake." The driver continued to circle the scene, then stopped. "Look at this." He reached over and picked up a few bullet casings. "I told you, whoever was here is a fucking pro. There's got to be a dozen zombies here and these are from a legit assault rifle." He tossed one casing to his partner, who caught it and began to inspect it.

"Yep, five-five-six. Definitely not civilian."

The man named Jim lit up a cigarette, casually leaning against the shot up sedan. His partner began walking back to the Jeep, reached inside, and began speaking into his radio. Matt couldn't hear the conversation, it was too far away and too quiet. He ducked back down, sparing a glance for the girl. She was still curled into a ball in the corner, her forehead against her knees.

"Dan? You think he's still around?"


"The guy, whoever this motherfucker is, think he's in one of these houses?"

"Are you dumb? Why would he stay within a mile of this? Hell's bells, we need to get the fuck out of here ourselves, imagine how many zeke are going to show up any minute now."

There was a moment of silence. Then Jim spoke up again. "Hey mister? If you can hear me, come on out."

Matt looked over at the girl again, who lifted her head and looked back at him. There were some fresh tears in her eyes.

"Shut up, Jim, you're not helping."

"Fuck, if he's still around we could use a guy like that back at the depot."

"Fine, do what you want." Matt could hear the eye-roll in his tone of voice.

"Thank you." Louder, the stranger went on. "Listen, we're not here to mess with you. We're just trying to survive, same as you. You can come back with us, anyone with you is welcome too. We got a few families, but not enough folks that know how to shoot straight... we sure could use some help, what do you say?"

Matt stood up and reached his hand down to the girl. She didn't take it.

"Come on, let's go," he said.

"I... I'm not sure."

"Listen, kid, I'm going. It's our best bet." He stood for a moment longer, then turned for the door.

"No! Wait." Matt turned back, but she hadn't budged. "Mister... I don't trust them. Please, don't go. Please?"

He stood in the doorway, not sure what to do. The two stared at each other, neither looking away or making a move.

The voices from outside spoke up again. "I told you so, you dumb fuck. Now let's get the hell out of here." The engine of the Jeep revved a minute later, turning around and heading back from where it came.

*Great... Now what?*

Anonymous 14/12/14(Sun)15:41 No. 22974 ID: 1d15f0


Anonymous 15/03/22(Sun)19:20 No. 23404 ID: 84d96c

Hello Op. It's been a while since you did an update - any news on further chapters? This is a superb premise on which to base an erotic story, so with a good start it would be a real shame for it to just peter out. Please let us know.

Anonymous 15/03/25(Wed)17:08 No. 23413 ID: 65eb83

nothing dirty has happened yet but I'm already excited damn good setup

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 15/03/26(Thu)23:31 No. 23416 ID: a07679

I'm really stoked to see this post getting attention even though it's been 4 months since I updated! I've been meaning to come back to this again and again but I'm so fucking lazy. So here is half of what I've written since then, and I promise you I'll have another chapter up by Sunday evening at the latest. Thank you for bringing me back to this, I needed the motivation!

Ep01 Ch03 below:

* * * * *

"I'm sorry! Please don't go!"

Matt strode purposefully down the hall, mad as hell and not going to take this anymore. He had saved her life, for whatever reason, and this was how she showed her gratitude? *Bullshit.* Still, it was proving hard to walk down the stairs with the preteen girl literally hugging his boot.

He looked down, setting his face in an angry scowl. "Get the hell off my foot. I saved your ass, what more do you want? A babysitter?"

Defeated, the girl released her death grip and lay limp on the ground. Matt lingered for less than a second before descending, walking out the front door, and leaning against the wall. Off to his left lay his bike and rucksack, and in the middle of the street lay his empty magazine. It was already too bright to finish his mission to the supermarket. *Just going to have to save that for another day...* He collected his things, then took one last look back at the house from which he just came. He stared for a solid minute, swore, and turned back towards the house. And the girl.

When he went back inside, he could see she was still laying at the top of the stairs, sobbing into her arms. She didn't look up when he began climbing the stairs, and it wasn't until he reached the top step and sat down that she stopped crying. Matt simply sat there, looking at his thumbs as he twiddled them. After some time, the girl sat up and scooted to sit next to him.

After another stretch of silence, Matt cleared his throat. "I, uh... I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. My name's Matt."

"Emma. Thanks for saving my life, Mister."

"You're welcome, Emma. Please don't ever call me 'Mister' again." The two of them laughed.

"What do we do now, Mi—I mean, what do we do now, Matt?"

"We're going to get out of here before we're overrun by those zombie things. The sun is nearly up, but my hide-out is right around the corner."

"Isn't that just weird? Here this whole time you've been so close and we've been hiding here, and we didn't even know you existed." After a second, Emma added, "I guess it's just me now though, huh..." Matt turned to look at her and, as soon as they locked eyes, Emma burst into tears.

*Oh good lord, how do I do this? Raising a son was so much easier.* Gingerly, Matt wrapped his arms around the heaving shoulders, patting Emma on the back and mumbling what he thought were comforting words. In turn, Emma hugged Matt as tightly as she could muster, her sobs and tears alike being absorbed by his dirty sweater. *Although, to be fair, she did just lose her entire family. Let's just hope, for her sake, she doesn't think I'm going to adopt her. I'll keep her alive until I can find another family that can take her in. Or I'll try to keep her alive...*

"Ok, kid, we can either get somewhere safe, or we can cry the morning away. Your choice." She let loose her grip and sat upright. Her face was streaked with tears and makeup, which she began to try to wipe away as she composed herself. "Here's what I want you to do, and it is very important that you follow my orders exactly. That's our first rule. I will never tell you to do something to harm you, and sometimes it's a matter of life or death that you do what I say. Got it?" She nodded in reply, adopting a serious expression.

"Now, here's the thing. You aren't going out on the town, what you're wearing is frankly not safe." Emma looked at herself a little self-consciously, adjusting her blouse a little. "You need to go change into some sturdy clothes. Your toughest pants, shirt, your sturdiest shoes or boots, that sort of thing. In a bag, you need to put some warmer clothes, it could start snowing here as early as a month from now if we're unlucky. Same rule applies, though, it needs to be sturdy and not... well, not this." Matt gestured to the flowing part of Emma's blouse. "Then, in addition to the clothing, only take what you absolutely need to survive. I don't want to know any details, but I know you women have extra... items... just pack it into your backpack. If you can't carry it yourself, it's too heavy, because I will not be carrying anything for you." Emma nodded again.

Matt stood up, and Emma did the same. "I am going to go salvage what I can from your kitchen, you get yourself together and come find me." Emma went down the hall, Matt descended the steps. At the bottom, instead of looking for the kitchen, he was distracted by the family pictures the covered the living room walls. For all that happened, if you didn't look out the window, it seemed like any other morning. Hell, there was even a robin out front raising a little hell.

The pictures, as Matt inspected them closer, showed any normal suburban family. *Damn,* Matt thought to himself, *this boy could be my son if I didn't know any better.* A cabinet in the corner showed medals an ribbons from the two children. The half that was presumably dedicated to Emma was bedecked with cheer competition medals, pictures of a much younger Emma in ballet performances, and even a 1st Place medal for something called "Quiz Bowl."

*Can't get distracted... Where is this damn kitchen?* He cut through the dining room and found himself in the kitchen. Again, just like every room through which he'd already passed, it looked like the family was away for the weekend, rather than fleeing a zombie apocalypse. Slinging his rucksack from his shoulder, Matt began foraging through pantries, looking for the canned and otherwise non-spoiling food. Getting lost in his work, he missed the quiet footsteps until the door behind him opened.

"Mister Matt?" He turned from the newly emptied pantry. "We keep a bunch of canned food in the basement if you wanna look through that stuff too." Emma was dressed in a high-necked t-shirt with the sleeves of a long-sleeved UnderArmour shirt coming from underneath. Her jeans looked old and beaten up, but in contrast the hiking boots she wore looked nearly new. She wore her hair in a tight bun, and her makeup was long gone. Hanging from one shoulder was a faded blue backpack.

"Sounds like a good idea. First thing's first, let me see your backpack." He could tell she was confused, so he explained further. "I know it seems unfairly strict, but I don't want you to weigh yourself down with stuff you don't need. If we can't find a working car, we're walking out of town." Still unsure, she slowly slid the backpack off her shoulder and handed it over. Placing the bag on the counter between the two of them, Matt first opened up the smaller pockets in front. "An inhaler?"

"It's just for emergencies, I haven't had a problem in a long time though," Emma explained.

Continuing his impromptu mini field inspection, Matt zipped open the bag's main compartment. On top of a pile of clothes was a full bottle of water and a few snack-sized bags of mixed nuts. There were some warm looking socks, a spare pair of jeans, and a hooded sweatshirt from a local middle school. Matt reached beneath the pile of clothes and pulled out what he found there: two books and a picture frame.

Matt looked at her sternly. "And this?"

"What? Haven't you heard of Grisham? Terry Pratchet?"

"Okay, fine. But I won't b—"

"Yeah, I get it, I will never ever complain about having to carry my backpack, okay?"

Matt looked at the picture frame. A portrait of the family, a smaller version of a picture he had seen in the living room, was inside. He looked back at Emma, who looked to be inches from tearing up. "I can't let you take this." He paused, then said, "The picture frame is too heavy, it has to stay." He removed the portrait from the frame and handed it to Emma. She hugged it to her chest briefly before tucking it in one of the novels.

Regaining her composure, Emma asked, "So are we good to go?"


"...no? What's left?"

"Nothing, but there's a small problem. It's practically day time and, if I were to guess, this morning's activities are bound to have drawn a crowd. We should stay here for the day before we head back to my place."

Emma looked thoughtful. "So you're saying we have to be nocturnal because of those things?"


"Nocturnal, silly. Like owls. Sleep in the day, awake at night... you don't know what nocturnal means?"

"I was just messing with you... Anyway, you have a guest room?"

"Not exactly. Come on upstairs." Emma led Matt through a hallway and up the stairs. "This room on the end is mine, this is the bathroom. This is the computer room slash library slash whatever. There's a pull-out sofa in there if you want. But you can probably sleep in Johnny's bedroom, I bet it's more comfortable."

"Thanks, kid. I'll set an alarm and come get you when it's time to go. Try to get as much sleep as you can." Matt turned to open the brother's bedroom, but was stopped when Emma suddenly threw her arms around his midsection.

"Hey. Um... thanks again for saving me. I promise I won't slow you down or whatever." Matt, unsure of what to do, patted her on the back with one hand.

"No problem kid, I guess I'm glad to have some company." After a moment, Emma detached herself from him and made her way to her own room. Matt went into his room for the day, resting his rifle against the wall next to the door and throwing the rucksack down on the floor. Sitting down on the strangers bed, Matt unlaced his combat boots and kicked them off, then stretched out. Even though it was a little chilly, the heat probably having gone out a while ago, he didn't feel right using the dead boy's covers. The room was too recently lived-in, and Matt was finding it difficult to get comfortable. After a stretch of time, Matt could hear some muffled sobs coming through the wall.

*Jesus fuck, what do I do?* he thought to himself. *Am I supposed to adopt her now? How the hell do I communicate with her? I never raised a girl... What do I say to her, how do I relate to her?* Distressed and overwhelmed by his new little companion, Matt drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Anonymous 15/03/28(Sat)14:19 No. 23422 ID: fdbf24


I know you asked the music question some months back, but I was just going through the post to see if there was an update and it struck me that Evanescence and their first album 'Fallen' may be a good match, certainly in mood.

Btw, I love the latest update and I'm delighted that you've been inspired again

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 15/03/28(Sat)22:32 No. 23423 ID: d29e9b

Woo! Enjoy 0104.

* * * * *

Matt's wristwatch began vibrating silently at 4:45. Matt woke from his shallow sleep, looking out the window. The sun was setting, if it wasn't already twilight. Sooner than later the undead would enter their dormant phase and it would be safe for Matt and Emma to travel the streets. *Well, relatively safe,* Matt thought, *there are still real people out there...*

Rising slowly from the bed, Matt slipped his boots on and laced them up. He retrieved his assault rifle and made his way back to the master bedroom, peering out the window once again. Just as he had feared, a small crowd of the creatures had formed. He counted seven figures and, while he watched, he saw one already hunker down into a crouching position. *Good, shouldn't be long now.*

He stood slowly and slung the rifle over his shoulder. Silently he stole down the hall, and ended up standing awkwardly outside of the girl's room. He tapped on it lightly a few times, but there was no response. He pushed the door open—it wasn't latched—and softly called out, "Emma?" The bright blue-green walls caught the last of the light from the sun, illuminating the young girl's sleeping face. Her auburn hair seemed to shine as it tumbled across her shoulders, and her expression was serene and peaceful.

The Marine lost track of time, so entranced was he with the sight. When he finally snapped back to reality, it was much darker than when he entered. The man walked softly across the room, or as softly as he could with his thick-soled boots, and touched her on the shoulder. Once more he whispered, "Emma?"

Her eyes fluttered open, a confused expression passing over her face for a moment before giving way to a pained one as the memories of the last 12 hours came rushing back to her. Not eager to face a crying girl again, Matt spoke up quickly. "Emma, i-it's just about time to go. Are you ready?" Emma flung the covers off, fully dressed underneath, and lazily sat up in her bed. "I'm going to get my bag and check to see if the coast is clear. Come downstairs when you're ready... but don't take too much time, okay?"

She nodded, one fist already rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, so Matt retrieved his rucksack and went down the stairs. Through the picture window Matt could see the small pack of undead seemed completely dormant. But looks could be deceiving. Even in twilight the monsters might still be awake. Unbidden, scenes from the first day of the apocalypse returned to Matt's head...

When the attack came, it was like a wave. Fleeing people would bring behind them the undead, even from town to town and state to state. The people who managed to keep from being out in the open were ultimately the ones who lasted the first night. Still ignorant of the behavior of the creatures, Matt had been even more cautious, continuously moving but taking the utmost care to look before he leapt. When daylight came, Matt was tempted to venture out, perhaps to return to his own home and regroup. But, on an impulse, he decided to wait and observe just a little longer. And that is when he witnessed his first transformation.

A solitary man tried making a break for his car. There was one of the monsters in the road, but it was standing still and facing away from the man. As soon as his foot hit gravel, however, the thing sprang to action. Quicker than expected, the thing's teeth were embedded in the man's calf. Armed with only a hatchet, the man managed to decapitate the creature... but he was still injured and, unbeknownst to him, infected. He limped the rest of the way to his car and locked himself in when the infection took root. He began to spasm and foam at the mouth, though he remained restrained by his seatbelt. In a matter of seconds the man was no longer present, and instead another undead populated the town.

*Hell, it's probably still stuck in its car, foaming at the mouth and snapping at any living thing that crosses its path...*

His reverie was broken by the nearly quiet clunking of boots on the stairs. Emma appeared at the bottom of the steps and her gaze followed Matt's out the picture window. He heard a sharp intake of breath, and looked over to see the girl trembling. "It's fine, they're asleep and can't hear you... you can breathe if you'd like." Emma ripped her eyes from the window to look for reassurance in the man's eyes.

After a brief moment, she meekly asked, "Why don't we go out the back?"

"The back?"

"Yeah... my grandparents used to live next door, in the house on the corner. There's still a gate in the fence, and it latches on our side so we could go out that way..."

Matt didn't have to ponder his options long. "Lead the way, kid."

Emma turned, Matt following behind her walking his bicycle. As silently as she could manage, Emma unbolted the rear door and swung it open. The fenced-in yard was empty of life, and the pair proceeded. Matt saw the gate in the far right corner, and headed for that. The girl turned to look at the dark and empty house one more time. Matt tried to read her, to try to understand what she was thinking. A look of grim determination, maybe? Or nervousness and grief? He placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Listen," he whispered softly, "you'll see it again. I promise."

After a long silence where neither of them moved, she replied, "We'll see."

The two shadowy figures slipped through the gate into another back yard. Again, fortunately, it was bare. They cut across the yard and up the side of the house to the street. By now their eyes had adjusted to the near-blackness, and they could easily see the handful of undead standing vigil in front of Emma's home. The shattered family vehicle was in sight, too, and Emma turned away sharply when she realized what she was seeing. "How far do we have to go?" she whispered almost inaudibly. Matt replied in kind.

"Not very. One block." He stepped out into the street, and she followed. The two of them found their way to Matt's temporary home with no incident.

When they were in the basement, Emma began looking around with a curious eye. She went over to the cot in the corner and flopped down, shucking her backpack off her shoulders. Risking to speak above a whisper, Matt said, "Don't get too comfortable, now is an ideal time to get moving."

"Wait..." began Emma, confused, "where are we moving to?"

"If 'the depot' is what I think it is, we will want to leave ASAP to make it before day breaks."

"The... the depot?!" Emma was stunned. "B-but I thought we weren't going there!"

"Keep your voice down, kid!" Matt whispered sharply. "We never came to that decision. I still intend to go, because that is our best bet at this stage. We can band together and hold out until help arrives." *Not that I'm sure help is arriving...* But he silently thought that last part to himself. Emma was biting her lower lip, tears springing to her eyes again. Matt forestalled the inevitable argument, saying, "I know what you said. I understand gut feelings, but mine is telling me this is the safest move. But," he added grudgingly, "at the first sign of something fucked up you and I are out of there. Good enough?"

"Do I have a choice?" she retorted bitterly.

"Yeah, you could stay down here and I'll leave you the food I brought from your house. Or do you want to come with me?"

Emma didn't reply, but instead folded her arms on her chest and crossed her legs, her face set in surly pout. "Yes, okay, you sit there then and I'll get ready for OUR departure, fine?" Still no reply. So Matt bustled about, filling up the rest of his rucksack with food and all the ammunition that wouldn't fit on his belt. He spared a glance for Emma, but she remained steadfastly belligerent, although she was thankfully silent.

After some time, Matt started for the door. "Okay kid, coming?" He looked back when there was no reply, but the girl had fallen asleep sitting upright. "Emma?" he called out a little louder.

"Yeah," she blurted out, startled from her nap.

"Looks like you're going to have to get used to being nocturnal!"

She didn't reply to that, but instead asked, "So we're still going?" Matt nodded. "And I can't argue against it?"

"You could," he replied with a smirk, "but it would do you no good."

Sighing, she stood up and followed him up the stairs. "Permission to grumble under my breath?"

Chuckling, Matt said "Granted, as long as you don't do it too loudly for the monsters to hear."

The pair rose from the cellar doors, blinking in the gloom and scanning the yard while their eyes adjusted. *One of these days,* Matt thought, *we aren't going to be so lucky to find the coast is clear.* They began to leave the yard when Matt felt a tug on his sleeve. Emma was gesturing at the bike that lay abandoned on the ground. Matt shrugged his shoulders and gestured as if to say, "One seat, two riders." Emma tugged on his sleeve until he bent over, and she put her lips next to his ear.

"There are pegs, though!" she whispered excitedly.

Matt stood up with a confused look on his face. He inspected the bike closer, a bike he had been using for several days, and noticed for the first time that there were pegs coming out of the rear axle. Emma walked over to the bike and stood it up. Gesturing, she indicated that Matt could sit on the seat and pedal while she stood on the pegs and held on to his shoulders. He continued to balk, and Emma jokingly stomped her feet and continued to point at the bike. *It would make the trip that much shorter... and it would be easier to evade any undead we happen to wake up.* After a few moments of awkwardly figuring things out, in which they wordlessly decided Emma would wear both packs while Matt's rifle was slung under his arms to dangle precariously in front of him, the two were off.

If he had to admit it, Matt was almost enjoying the ride. After too long without any human contact, being nearly embraced by someone—even if they were just holding on with no affectionate intent—was more than pleasant. And besides that, now he had an objective and a destination... maybe even a little bit of optimism. They cruised downtown, towards what Matt imagined was the mysterious 'depot' of which the two strangers spoke. Near the center of town was a very old stone building, built sometime during the mid-1700s when their part of New England was being settled. Its original purpose was to be a prison for several towns within a day's ride, even though it really looked like the builders had originally set out to make a little slice of home in the form of a medieval castle. It had sat unused for several decades after a new state prison opened up around the turn of the 20th century, but then the National Guard took over the building, gave it some massive renovations, and used it as a depot for vehicles and, most likely, weapons. Matt surmised that during the initial wave people had flocked to the building and turned it into a fort. It would be an ideal base to defend attacks from some mindless creatures, although he had never seen the inside except for the part of the building used by the local Marine Corps recruiter.

The houses began to grow closer together, and the two travelers were getting closer to the business district, such as it was. A few office buildings that rose to an impressive height of six floors, as well as the town's apartment buildings and only hotel. But what really brought Matt's mind into focus was the small voice over his shoulder urgently whispering, "Did you hear that!?" Slowing his bike to a halt, Matt strained his ears for a moment. The familiar rev of a Jeep engine began to grow closer, and Matt could see the wash of some high-powered off-road lighting rig on a side road several blocks away. Matt began looking around, thinking to hide out of sight, but before he could take a full account of his surroundings the lights rounded the corner and had the pair in sight.

Squinting into the sudden brightness, Matt spoke in what he hope was a reassuring tone. "Slowly get off the bike, kid, and don't make any sudden movements. We're not here to get killed, right?" The vehicle grew closer and stopped about a hundred feet from where they stood. Two figures, indiscernible because they were backlit by the overwhelming lighting, stepped out and in front of their vehicle. Matt could sort of make out that they were holding guns in their hands, but didn't have them raised. Still, just to be safe, he lifted his rifle by the barrel and the butt over his head. He saw Emma lift her arms slowly up as well, and smiled a little bit to himself.

"Why, what do we have here?" one figured said to the other, their voices carrying across the distance.

"Not sure, Jim, not sure," said the other. If Matt was recalling correctly, this could be the same pair from earlier that day. "Sure don't look like zeke to me, how about you?"

"Hard to say, can't really tell until they're dead."

Hearing Emma's surprised intake of breath next to him, Matt had to speak up. "Did you happen to find about a dozen dead... uh... zeke earlier today? That was me." The two figures were silent, it was hard to see if what their reaction was, so Matt continued. "I wanted some time to think over your invitation, but here I am."

After a pause, the man that seemed to be named Jim spoke to Matt. "And who's that with you? Got yourself a nice little fuckpiece, huh? Can't say I'm not jealous, although that's part of the admission process... you know, sharing your goods and booty with the rest of the crew. Hope that isn't a problem, is it Mister?"

Matt was stunned, his mouth agape. What they were talking about, that was child molestation! To imply Matt was like that too was the least of his worries, as the two of the strangers began advancing towards Matt and Emma with their guns held with a little more menace. He heard his young companion start to hyperventilate, although from the corner of his eye he could see she was still standing at his side resolutely. "It's going to be okay, little one," he murmured.

Out of his peripheral vision Matt saw some movement, and then the burst of a supressed automatic submachine gun pierced the relatively silent night. He briefly registered Emma screaming and dropping to the ground, but didn't feel any bullets hit him... no, instead the two advancing strangers were now laying in a heap. From an alleyway between two buildings, a single figure emerged, aiming unwaveringly at Matt.

"Gimme one good reason I don't drop you, motherfuckin' cracker!"

Anonymous 15/03/29(Sun)12:59 No. 23427 ID: 03db1e

I need moar.

Anonymous 15/04/01(Wed)09:48 No. 23437 ID: 03db1e

This story is great.

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 15/04/08(Wed)04:23 No. 23451 ID: d29e9b

Oh snap, only three weeks since my last update? I better slow down, I don't want to spoil you fuckers.

0105 awayyyy....

* * * * *

The young, over-muscled black man approached Matt aggressively. The way he was holding his MAC-10 showed his familiarity with the weapon—and his willingness to use it without hesitating. *No sense in giving him a reason to pull the trigger... again.* As the new stranger grew closer, Matt continued to hold his rifle in the least threatening way he could, but it was getting harder to keep from looking down at Emma. Had she been hit by a ricochet? Why wasn't she standing up!? His battle instincts, rusty yet in full swing ever since hour one of the apocalypse, were the only thing keeping his head upright and his eyes on the enemy. The barrel of the SMG hadn't left Matt's center of mass since being trained on him, and now the man stood less than 15 feet from him. And... wait, what was that on his arm?

"Matthew Shepard, Captain, United States Marine Corps, retired." If he was right, and by God he hoped he was, that was the Eagle Globe and Anchor tattooed on the younger man's arm. Sure enough, the barrel dipped for a moment and a confused look passed across the man's face.

"I-Isaiah Jackson... wait, how the hell do I know you ain't bullshitting me, man? Anyone could have seen this," he said, twisting his torso so his arm was more visible. The gun came back to point at Matt's chest. "Hell, that doesn't look like a fuckin' M4. You got ten seconds to convince me, starting now."

"Jackson, I've been through hell longer than you've been alive. I've been an officer in the 22nd MEU since '85, shit I fought from West Africa to East Europe to Afghanistan. And here you're pointing some stolen piece of shit gun at me like some street thug? In my own home town? Show some goddamn respect."

The gun wavered during the rant, until finally the man named Isaiah lowered his gun to his side. Matt relaxed too, bringing his own rifle to a more comfortable level. Quickly, but with an effort to remain non-threatening in his new friend's eyes, Matt kneeled to inspect his downed traveling companion. "Honey?" he said, fearing the worst. Shaking her shoulder lightly, he continued, "you okay? Come on, speak to me."

She rolled away from Matt, looking up at the black man, then back at Matt. "Yeah. I guess. It's just that I don't think I like guns..." Matt couldn't keep a relieved smirk off his face. He stood and offered a hand to Emma, pulling her to her feet. He scooped up his rucksack from the ground and put it over his shoulder, then turned to face the other man.

"Well, we better fucking move. Where are we going, Jackson?"

"We?" was the man's incredulous reply. "Who said shit about 'we?'"

"Okay, I suppose I could take this jeep and find out where the former owners came from. I could tell their friends what I saw. Or I could come with you. And I think you owe me—no, us—an explanation as to why you gunned down two men for no apparent reason right in front of us."

"Jesus dude, chill. Come on, I'll get you two off the street and then we'll figure out what to do with you." Matt and Emma followed Jackson as he returned to the alley from which he came.

Before Emma could inspect the bodies of the two men closer, Matt pointed ahead of them and said, "you don't want to look, honey. Trust me." Jackson continued to lead them up the alley, the pair following closely. After a moment, Emma spoke to Matt quietly.

"What did those men say about me? I know they were talking about me, right? 'A nice little' something..."

"Nothing nice, kid. They weren't nice men, I don't think."

After another moment, Emma said, "I told you so." Matt turned to look at her and, in the darkness, made out a devilish smile on the girl's face.

"This feeling?" he replied with his own smile, "Feeling superior because you are right and I'm wrong? Don't get used to it."

Jackson approached the end of the alley with caution, holding his left fist up without turning around. Matt put his hands on Emma's shoulders and they both crouched down. He whispered in her ear, "that means freeze. Stay low and behind me." He gripped his rifle, preparing to use it, and lined up on the wall behind Jackson. Jackson himself was on one knee, flattening himself against the wall with his SMG held in both hands.

"These streets are mostly controlled by the group out of the depot. They have trucks, we don't. We gotta be careful crossing the streets, especially if they radio the guys lyin' back there and don't get a reply."

"Where are we going?" Matt asked.

"Straight across, that alley opening there." Jackson pointed with his off hand, the way clear except for a little two car pile up in the middle of the wide street. "You cover me, I'll go halfway, got it?"

"Got it."

Jackson peeked out one more time, ducked back behind the corner, then got to his feet and left the safety of the wall. Matt got to his feet and aimed his gun down the street, Jackson moving quickly with his gun low and his head on a swivel. Once Jackson got to the wrecked cars, he propped his gun on the hood of one, then motioned to Matt. Matt in turn braced his rifle's barrel against the corner and motioned with his free hand to Emma. Without taking his eyes from down range, he said to her, "Stay low and try not to make to much noise. Go to the cars, I'll be right behind you." She didn't reply, but instead sprinted from one cover to the other. Matt followed right behind her, and then the trio crossed the rest of the road the same way.

When they had regrouped, Emma turned to Jackson and asked, "Are we really in that much danger?"

Jackson half-chuckled and replied, "Shit, kid, it's the end of the world. We're always in that much danger." After a pause he added, "But yeah. You guys got pretty close to the depot, so they might have even heard my gunfire. And those dead fuckers might have radioed home that they had encountered you, so a team might already be scrambling to find 'em. But don't worry, it's alleyways the rest of the way."

They continued walking. About halfway down the block another alleyway opened up perpendicular to the one they were on. Jackson turned right. This way was much darker, the moonlight shadowed now by the tall buildings on either side. They continued on for some time before Jackson stopped at one building's fire escape ladder. He rapped on the old iron ladder twice, paused, then twice again. From above a voice called down, "Yeah yeah, I saw you comin' from a mile off. Come on up, youngin'."

Without waiting for the other two, Jackson stuck his SMG in the back of his pants and began to ascend with a practiced familiarity. Neither Matt nor Emma moved, looking at each other, until Matt made a small mocking bow and gestured to the ladder. "Ladies first," he said with a wry smile. Emma didn't say anything but replied with her own sarcastic smile and curtsy. Emma took to the ladder, then Matt.

As they climbed, Emma laughingly said, "Now don't be looking at my butt..." Flustered, Matt couldn't think of a witty reply in time. With a more serious tone, Emma said, "Oh God, you actually are, aren't you!"

"No, Jesus, of course not!" Matt spit out. Truth be told he had been watching her feet, just to make sure he didn't get kicked in the head. But her words had drawn his attention to her rear end and, briefly, he looked. *It was only a glance!* Matt rationalized in his head. *It was like looking at the sun. I got a sense of it, then I looked away!*

When they reached the top of the ladder, still a few flights from the roof, Emma turned and smacked Matt on the shoulder. "That's for looking at my butt without my permission!" she said accusingly. Then she smiled again.

Before Matt could offer a rejoinder, Jackson's voice from the stairs above them called out, "Come on you silly fuckin' crackers, all the way up." The two looked at each other and Emma shrugged, turning and leading the way up. Eventually they reached Jackson, who was already talking with another man on the roof. The man sat in a white plastic lawn chair, an M16 leaning against his knee and a glowing cigarette in his mouth. The chairs were near the edge opposite of the fire escape, facing the street out front. Matt made his way to the far edge, but kept his distance from the two men so as to not appear to be eavesdropping. From the top of the apartment building they were on he could see a lot of the town. It was one of the taller buildings in the downtown area, as Matt's quads were reminding him, and from the roof one could see the town hall, the high school, and even the depot further in the distance. The building was on the corner of the town's main street and one of its more prominent avenues.

"We saw you two crazy kids pedaling away when you were comin' down Main," the man with the rifle called out. The voice was raspier and older sounding. Matt turned to the source. The man was black as well, but significantly older than Jackson and even Matt himself. He had a thick mustache and a full head of black hair, but his skin was a little pale with age. Using the rifle like a cane, the man pushed himself to his feet and walked over to Matt. When he was close enough he extended a hand to Matt. "Pierce. Ron Pierce. Welcome to my roof."

"Thank you," Matt said, shaking the man's hand. "Shepard, uh, Matt Shepard. Are you military?"

"Yessir, Army. Got all the way to sergeant, never amounted to much. Saw a lot of time in 'Nam. My boy Jackson says you Marines? A Marine Captain, in fact?"

"Yeah, that's right. 22nd Marine Expeditionary Unit."

"Hey now, that's alright. Always good to have another youngin' that can shoot a rifle instead of these little peashooters all the kids are carrying around these days."

They shared a brief chuckle, then Matt said, "I think my 'youngin' days are past me."

"You sure ain't old like me, that makes you a youngin'. Hell, you ain't even forty if I'm right."

"Thirty-nine," Matt admitted.

"Shit, still got it." The old man gloated briefly, then motioned his hand at Matt's own rifle. "Isaiah also mentioned your piece there. That doesn't look standard issue, if I may say so, sir."

Matt held up his rifle for the older man to inspect. "It isn't, not on this side of the pond. It's the Brit's rifle, the L85. Got to shoot around with it doing joint operations in Afghanistan, fell in love with it. Had to get one from my contact in the Royal Marines once I retired."

"Well it looks pretty sturdy. Always thought these bullpup designs were pretty ingenious." Matt handed his gun over to Pierce, and the old man experimentally held the gun in a firing position. "The weight feels weird, but I guess I'm just used to my old M16. Still," he said handing the rifle back, "you and this gun sure will come in use."

"Come in use?"

"Why, yes. It's all hands on deck, to put it in your terms. We're going to need every gun we can get when we storm the depot."

Anonymous 15/04/08(Wed)21:05 No. 23455 ID: 36e3b1

Good writing, really wanna see where this goes

Anonymous 15/04/09(Thu)09:46 No. 23456 ID: fdc9c0

I can't wait for the next update.

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 15/04/16(Thu)07:33 No. 23480 ID: a07679

Sorry this update is shorter than normal, I just wanted to get it out sooner I guess. Thanks for the emails, keep them coming!

0106, reporting for duty.

* * * * *

"You're kidding me." It didn't even come out as a question. The old black soldier shook his head, almost sadly. "This is madness!"

"No," was the old soldier's reply, "this is the south side."

*I have to leave now. I mean, we have to leave now. Shit, where is Emma!?*

Matt began to look around the rooftop frantically, his eyes quickly alighting on Emma and the young man, Jackson, sitting near the fire escape talking. Pierce smiled without taking his eyes from Matt's face. A grim realization came over Matt, and he spat out in a low growl, "If you fucking touch her—"

"I sincerely hope I don't have to, sir," said the sergeant, the grin still on his face. "If you'll let me speak my peace, then maybe I won't need to coerce you by other means." The old man turned to look out over the small city, over the neighborhood that he called home. "My grandfather came to this town after serving in the Great War. His grandfather had been a slave in Georgia, so coming here was a chance to start a family away from that place. He got a job working in the furniture manufactory over there." He gestured to a squat old building that Matt had never noticed before. It looked like it had once been a factory, decades ago.

"He found himself a wife, had a son, died, and was buried. All in this town. My father worked in the same factory 'til he went over to Africa in 1942. My mother took his job, but by that time the factory was making butts for the Garand. Or was it the Thompson?" Pierce touched his chin as he pondered, but the pause was brief. "Anyway, that was a long time ago. Back when white people lived in the city too, and there were jobs for people who could work. After the war, right before I was born as a matter of fact, the factory shut its doors for good. A lotta folk lost their means of living. Some stayed, many left, but my momma had just had a child. That was me. So my daddy worked pushing a mop at a highschool he was never could attend. I grew up in this town, working at that old movie theater over there, since it was the 'colored' theater. Then I turned 20 and my number was called, so I went to a jungle halfway across the world and got shot at. Did some shooting, too, and I don't regret a bullet. I came home, came right back to this apartment building. I drove a city bus for a decade until they shut that down, then I drove a bright yellow bus for the school until I was asked to retire. I buried my momma, my daddy, my baby brother. I saw crack and heroin destroy people. I saw people destroy each other. But this is my home, and I'll be damned if I let anyone drive me out of it.

"But it's not just about me, and here's where you come in. And where young Isaiah comes in. And maybe Miss Emma as well, although she'll be with the rest of the logistics battalion, so to speak." Pierce turned and placed a hand on Matt's shoulder, though Matt wasn't entirely at ease with the gesture. "This ain't about race. This ain't about turf. This is about survival. And the real monsters are in that depot over there. You see, me and them honkeys," he spit on the ground to emphasize his distaste, "we had the same idea. But they had the idea first. The depot is a natural fortress and has enough ammo to last out this damn apocalypse. But they come down from the fuckin' hills with their four-by-fours and their confederate flags and get there first. That wouldn't be so bad, if that was all they did. But it's far worse than that. They drive out every night, killin' those creatures for sport. And sometimes they might shoot a 'darkie' since who can tell the difference?" With that he laughed a bitter laugh. Then he nodded to where Jackson was sitting. "That still ain't the worst of it. Those FUCKIN' animals up in that castle are actually taking women off the street. His sister. My nephew's fiancée. More, and just from this building. Who knows what they been doing up on the north side, maybe even right now. Think on that."

The silence hung in the air for a good long while. It was a lot for Matt to process, but the evidence seemed to point one way over the other. If it hadn't been for the brief dialogue back down on the street, Matt may have been less inclined to believe Pierce. *But they were talking about Emma, a girl clearly under my guard, like a piece of meat. If that's what they saw in her, what does that say about them as a whole?* Matt looked over to where Jackson and Emma were still talking, although he couldn't hear a word of their conversation. But what he could see in the light of the waning moon was that the younger man seemed to have his hand lightly resting on the SMG in his lap. Grimly, Matt shook his head, thinking, *What other choice do I have?*

"Emma?" Matt called out. "Come over here." He started walking to her and she excused herself from her own conversation. It was as private as they could be with the other men right there. "Listen, Emma," Matt began, speaking as quietly as he could, "I don't know about these guys. There asking me to take a huge risk here, and that c—"

"You are going to help them, right?" she asked, cutting him off. It put Matt off for a moment, and he stood there with his mouth open mid-word.

After a second he said, "What have you been talking about?"

"They took Isaiah's sister! Can you friggen believe that!?" The little girl had a determined look on her face. "You have to help them! You saved me all on your own, and that was from those monster things. I think you can save his sister with these guys helping, right?"

Matt shook his head, then smiled. "You're something else, kid. But yeah, I guess I'm in." He turned to Pierce and extended his hand. "Count me in."

"Count us in!" Emma added.

Pierce took the marine's hand firmly and smiled widely. "Great, let's go on down and get you guys a place to bunk down."

Anonymous 15/04/17(Fri)01:29 No. 23481 ID: d59d76

Came in to fap, stayed to enjoy a nice story. Good stuff, man.

Anonymous 15/04/17(Fri)10:26 No. 23483 ID: fd87a6


Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 15/04/19(Sun)01:51 No. 23485 ID: 03c9db


fapping will be a ways off. or not. stay tuned to find out

Anonymous 15/05/14(Thu)11:18 No. 23556 ID: 1874c2

Ahhhhh! Please update my brotha

Anonymous 16/01/24(Sun)06:42 No. 24085 ID: b0dfc5

Hope against hope Phoenix, as you haven't updated or posted in nearly a year. It would be a real shame not to complete a really promising story! If you do look in on this thread now and again would you please put me out of my misery and let all of us know what your plans for this story are, one way or the other.

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 16/01/24(Sun)19:51 No. 24086 ID: 4f90ba


It's funny this got bumped, I started wanting to write the next chapter for a few weeks, but it's harder to put ideas into text having been out of writing for this long. The next chapter is going to actually have some Male adult on Female adult action once I get around to finishing it. Tentatively I'll set 29 February as a deadline for the next chapter!

Thank you, though, for the comment. I know some authors burn out because they don't get enough comments on their stories, but I know that for everyone leaving a note there are probably 20 lurkers. So hello to anyone out there, stay tuned!

Bkil 16/01/25(Mon)23:21 No. 24089 ID: 1d57c4

I should have read this story earlier, you've done a good job explaining the characters and the world a bit too.

I just read this story last night after seeing it is about something that does interest me. I normally don't read apocalypse stories but a loli makes everything better.

I'm looking forward to an update.

Anonymous 16/02/14(Sun)06:23 No. 24109 ID: fa2142

You're right about lurkers. I hadn't really thought that that may be a reason for writers not continuing stories and I don't normally make any comments. I'll try to in the future, but I agree with >> 24086, this is a great story and I'm really pleased you're going to continue it!

Anonymous 16/03/23(Wed)11:46 No. 24158 ID: 7b8b7b

Yes! Love this story. Great job! MOAR!

Anonymous 16/04/28(Thu)10:50 No. 24229 ID: 4d28f4

please keep going!

Anonymous 16/05/05(Thu)04:31 No. 24244 ID: 7d4337

bump for greater justice, also MOAR!

Anonymous 16/05/06(Fri)12:52 No. 24248 ID: 362cdd

On Amazon, you use "loose" instead of "lose" in the summary.

Anonymous 16/05/06(Fri)12:55 No. 24250 ID: 362cdd

mispost. sorry.

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 16/05/20(Fri)11:07 No. 24280 ID: 2c85a4

Guys holy shit. I have almost finished chapter 7. More development, I hope you all don't hate it because I love it.

I also have, like, 4 more chapters outlined right now and will be filling them out soon. But I just realized something.

So I fucked up the math somewhere. Basically, this story takes place in 2014. So Matt is 39, making his birth year 1975. So how the fuck is he a Marine officer at age 10? He isn't because I fucked up there. I legit think it might have been a typo or something.

So basically, if you've been reading this and missed my major fuck-up, here's the correction. Go to Chapter 05


Go to paragraph four. It should read like this (and I've emboldened the minor change to make it easier to see):

"Jackson, I've been through hell longer than you've been alive. I've been an officer in the 22nd MEU since '95, shit I fought from West Africa to East Europe to Afghanistan. And here you're pointing some stolen piece of shit gun at me like some street thug? In my own home town? Show some goddamn respect."

The reason I think this was a typo is because I originally wanted Captain Shepard to have taken part in the 22nd MEU's operations in West Africa (starting in April 1996 in Liberia with Operation Assured Response), then in 1998 in Bosnia & Kosovo, and then of course in Afghanistan and Iraq in the 2000s. So I obviously meant to say "since '95" and just fucked up a keystroke.

Okay, now that my minor freakout is over, let me finish CH07 and post it, then give y'all a news update! Fuck yeah elit.

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 16/05/20(Fri)11:45 No. 24281 ID: 2c85a4

For everything you've been through, I hope none of you want to actually fap any time soon. There's even more exposition coming up >_<

0107, starting to feel sleepy... Enjoy!

* * * * *

The apartment halls smelled of old cigarette smoke, stale curry, and unwashed people. As they followed Jackson to their room, Emma's hand snaked its way into Matt's, crushing it with her trepidation. The determination she showed on the roof seemed to disappear bit by bit as she went, reflecting the naked fear she saw in each pair of eyes peeking from an open door.

"We moved everyone down to the middle of the building," Jackson said, "don't matter where they were living before. That was Mama Ruth's idea. Worked for Ron, too, though he wouldn't say no to Mama either way."

Matt asked, "And who is Mama Ruth?"

"Oh, yeah. She be Ron's sister. She's in charge of everything but the guns. Got a whole army of women and girls workin' for her, splittin' up the food and tellin' people to turn the lights off. She wanted everyone on one or two floors, makes it easier to communicate and that shit." He turned to the last door at the end of the long hall. "This is it, number 501. The room above is Ron's so-called 'command center' 'cause it has a view of the intersection."

Jackson unlocked the door and the three of them entered. The smell from the hallway was drowned out by the overwhelming stench of cat shit and who knows what else. Matt quickly raised his hand to his face, clenching his nose and mouth shut. Beside him, Emma began to dry-heave, tears streaming down her face from the putrid stench. The three of them beat a hasty retreat, Jackson closing the door on his way out.

"Holy fuck!" was all the young man could say after a moment. A nearby door slammed shut as the stench dissipated down the hallway. "Holy fuck," he repeated, a little quieter. "I'm gonna see if Mama Ruth knew about this. Damn." As Jackson headed down the hallway, he half-turned and said over his shoulder, "You two stay here, I won't be long." As he walked off, Matt could hear one more soft, "holy fuck..." the younger Marine whispered to himself.

"I agree with Isaiah," Emma said matter-of-factly. Matt looked down at his little partner's face, and the two of them burst into laughter.

"Come on, let's sit down," Matt offered, and the two of them dropped their luggage and leaned against the wall. "That sure was disgusting."

"Yeah..." Emma paused for a second, looking into space like a young private with PTSD. With a far-off tone of voice, she continued, "reminded me of my Aunt Bernice's house. It's why daddy never let us have a cat." She looked up at Matt, who was watching her face as she talked, and gave a pained smile. "I never liked Aunt Bernice's cats anyway."

Instinctively, Matt stretched his arm around Emma's shoulders and pulled her in. Though she wasn't crying again, she still seemed to welcome it, snuggling into the crook of his arm. The two of them stayed still like that for a long moment, until Matt noticed someone approaching in his peripheral vision. He turned his head fully to look, expecting Jackson, but was surprised to see a young Latina woman, probably in her mid-20s, approaching. She was dressed conservatively, with only a little bit of make-up trying its best to mask the bags under her eyes. But even though she wasn't dressed to look flashy, it was hard to hide the flashy nature of her curves. The old Marine tried to keep from staring at her shapely body, so instead focused on her face. Her dark and lightly curled hair framed a face of beautifully soft features. But what really caught
his attention was the stranger's eyes. They were nearly excessively large, with a deep brown iris that was still distinct from the pupil. And, most beautifully, they were completely full of care and concern.

Though Matt was practically staring at her, she wasn't even looking at him. As she got closer, those eyes of hers lit up, and she said, "Emma? Is that really you?"

Emma shot up right away, her mouth in a surprised O. "Señorita!?" Emma skipped over Matt's outstretched legs and practically leapt into the Latina woman's arms. "Ohmygod ohmygod! It really is you!"

The woman laughed, hugging the girl tightly. "I could say the same thing! I'm so happy to see you, you don't even know!" Emma continued to bounce up and down in the woman's embrace, trying to contain laughter. But just as quickly as the joyful reunion had begun, Emma pulled away to look the woman in the eyes.

"They... the monsters got John. And mom and dad..."

"Oh, Pequeña." The woman quickly gathered Emma into her arms again, hugging her tightly as silent sobs wracked the little girl's body. She looked up at Matt, who had risen to his feet, looking at him as if to say 'Who are you?' without even mouthing the words to him. Instead, she turned her attention back to Emma and whispered soft encouragements into her ear. Eventually, the sobbing ceased, and Emma pulled out of the embrace.

The Latina woman untucked a corner of her blouse to wipe away the tears on Emma's cheek, and while doing so asked, "Who is your friend, Emma?" Her accent wasn't thick, but noticeable. Especially in the way she pronounced Emma like Ayymah. Though the older woman was concerned, the question brought another smile to the girl's face.

"Oh! This is Matt, he saved me. Twice!" She grabbed Matt's hand and physically pulled him into the conversation. Still bubbling, Emma said to Matt, "This is Señorita Rodriguez, mi profesor de Español!"

Smiling, and trying to joke, Matt stuck out his hand, saying, "Sorry, I don't speak Spanish. Did she say you're her physics teacher?"

Emma smacked his shoulder and rolled her eyes, but the Señorita lightly laughed. Taking his hand gently, she said, "You don't have to call me Señorita Rodriguez, though. Jessica will do just fine." She draped an arm around Emma's neck and brought her into a half-hug. "I'm just grateful to see my Pequeña again. So I guess I'm grateful you were there for her." Emma nudged her in the side, holding up two fingers. "Twice!" Jessica added, laughing again.

Matt felt his cheeks begin turning red as he joined in. *Her laughter... it's... almost musical. Wait, am I blushing?* he thought to himself, and as he realized that it only made his face turn red even faster. *Thank goodness it's dark in here.* He silently cleared his throat, just to make sure he didn't make a fool of himself in case his voice broke, and said, "I'm grateful I could be there, too. She kinda saved me, in a way. Or at least I'm not lonely anymore."

Jessica put a hand on her chest and made an 'awww' type of noise, but Emma punched him in the shoulder instead, saying, "Don't believe a word of it, he's full of caca!" She finished off with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

Playing along with the act, Matt rubbed where he had been punched, replying, "Watch it, or you're zombie bait tomorrow. Oh, and that actually hurt, you little jerk."

The playful banter was abruptly interrupted by a rather large woman pushing the trio against the wall. Without even a word of warning, she muscled past them, two much younger women in trail. Bringing up the rear was an apologetic looking Jackson. Coming to a halt in front of Matt, Jackson gestured towards the large woman about to breach the noxious apartment. "Allow me to introduce... Mama Ruth."

Matt caught a glimpse of the imposing figure of Mama Ruth, right before she charged undaunted into the soiled air. It was enough to confirm his suspicions. While she did have a slight resemblance to Pierce, she undeniably looked to be the kind of person that could direct that man's efforts and attention with ease. Besides a few shared features, like eyes and nappy hair, the comparison between Pierce and his sister ended. While he was quite tall, wiry, and almost lanky, Mama Ruth was short and built like a bull. Whereas the old sergeant had lean muscle on his lean frame, the old matron appeared to be thickly muscled under a thick layer of fat.

Not that you would say such a thing to her face.

"I figured that was her," Matt replied, and Jackson gave him a look as if to say, 'you don't even know.'

Mama Ruth's two attendants still waited at the door, looking at each other and waiting for one of them to take the lead. It wasn't until Mama Ruth said in a booming voice, "Get in here, you silly girls," that they sprung into motion, squeezing past each other and trying to be the first to obey. *Damn she's got authority. I bet she has Pierce under her thumb just the same way.* Matt turned his attention from the apartment—and thankfully one of the women closed the door behind them—back to the small triangle of conversation.

It was actually an amusing scene. Emma still stood at her teacher's side, her arm wrapped around Jessica's waist and Jessica's arm draped over the girl's shoulder. Opposite them, leaning against the wall, stood Jackson. Though he looked cool and casual, with a cocky lday-killing grin on his face, it was obvious Jessica was having none of it. Emma, mouth slightly agape with pure amusement written on her face, watched the conversation as if she was an audience member and not actually present.

"Come on, mamacita, you kn—"

"Mamacita? Please, don't you ever call me that again."

"Why do you gotta be so mean? I'm just being friendly."

"Oh please, I know when little boys like you are being friendly and when they're being friendly."

Jackson frowned in a mock pout, replying, "Little boy? I'm no little boy." He rolled up his already short sleeve, showing off his huge biceps. "Does a little boy have guns like these?" Jessica simply looked at Emma, and the two burst into laughter. Now frowning with an actual pout, Jackson stuck his hands in his pockets and turned to leave. Sparing one glance for Matt, he muttered, "...women!" and walked away. Emma and Jessica, who had almost stifled themselves, burst out in laughter again.

Pretending to roll up a sleeve, Jessica lowered her voice, saying, "I'm no little boy!" before another fit of giggles took her over. Part of Matt felt a little sorry for the young man. He had no shot in hell, but the rejection was still fairly brutal. But he couldn't take the guy's side if he wanted to win favor with the girls.

"I hope that doesn't happen too often..." Matt said, pointing a thumb down the hallway.

"Oh he tries, the poor boy, he tries. He'll lick his wounds and be back in a few days," Jessica replied.

Emma piped up, "And you shoot him down every time?"

Containing a giggle-snort, Jessica said, "Not quite so savage every time. That was mostly for you, darling." She cupped her student's cheek, pretending to be serious for a moment. "That's how you shut down boys, okay? Take notes."

When the women had laughed themselves out finally, Matt butted in. "So, now that Jackson is gone, are you going to introduce us to Mama Ruth?"

"Oh, nuh-uh," said Jessica, shaking her head. "Not when she's in work mode. And that apartment needs some work."

"When will they be done?" Emma asked, but Jessica just shook her head.

"Who knows, Pequeña. In fact, I bet you she will be bringing in more help. I'm going to go hide before she thinks I wanna go in there." As if on cue, the apartment door opened and one of the other women slipped out. She gasped for breath, leaning against the wall, and looked up at Matt with watering eyes. "You know what?" began Jessica, "you two get your things and come with me." Emma picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder, and the two girls began walking arm-in-arm down the hall. Matt followed closely with his belongings.

He tried to assess the architecture, he really did. The building was an old one, so it made sense that Pierce would have lived here as a child. The floorboards—and the beams under them—were so warped that walking down the hallway was a little bit treacherous. From what Matt could tell, and from what he could see glancing briefly inside the apartments whose doors laid open, they were fairly small sized. Maybe two bedrooms in each? And most of them hadn't seen a fresh wallpaper or carpeting job since the 70s.

The hallway lay parallel to the street, he could tell, all the apartments street-side. In the center of the building sat an elevator, with the staircase spiraling around the elevator shaft. Here Jessica led them down one flight, before continuing on. The two of them chattered silently between each other, not even sparing a glance for Matt. Although he was grateful for that, because neither one of them would catch him repeatedly assessing Jessica's architecture.

Try as he might, he couldn't ignore it any longer. It was almost a shock to him that his brain could betray him like this in the middle of the apocalypse, but then again he was in relative safety for the first time in a long time. Maybe, now that his hind brain thought he had returned to the pack, it was allowing him to notice this woman in front of him as a sexual creature. Emphasis on the sexual. Her curly dark hair, though showing some signs of disarray and neglect, still tumbled generously down her back, drawing his attention to her curvaceous ass. The jeans that first appeared modest now, from this more clear angle, were quite form-fitting. In addition to the glorious form, Matt was mesmerized by the sway of her hips. It was almost funny, the juxtaposition of Emma's straightforward plodding to Jessica's seductive stride...

They reached a closed door and pulled up short, Matt's eyes quickly returning to a more decent level. "This is me," Jessica said, opening the door and gesturing them in. The 40 year old wallpaper and carpet greeted them here too, although some aspects looked a little more millennial such as the flatscreen TV and the leather-looking couch. Pictures of Jessica's life adorned the wall and end tables, and when Jessica noticed Emma looking closely at one she commented, "This apartment was my place before the... whatever it was. That's me and my Abuela when I was your age," she said to Emma. "I'm really lucky I didn't have to uproot anything and move myself."

The apartment itself was about as large as Matt expected. The door from the hall opened into a small foyer of sorts, with the miniature kitchen directly to the right and the living room ahead. Off of the living room was a short narrow hall which, presumably, led to two modest bedrooms and a small bathroom. The theme, it seemed, was compactness.

"It's so homey!" Emma cheered. She slid her backpack off her shoulder and fwomped onto the sofa. "And it even smells really nice too!" Matt noticed the pleasant smell of the apartment too, now that Emma had mentioned it. Or, at least, it didn't smell as unpleasant as the rest of the building.

Jessica smiled at the girl's enthusiasm over the almost cramped home. "My Madre always said, 'Being poor doesn't mean you have to be gross.' In so many words."

Emma sank further into the sofa, covering a yawn with the back of her hand. Once she realized both adults had witnessed it, she sat up hurriedly. "I'm not sleepy! Honest."

"Come on, Pequeña..." Jessica held out both hands to the young girl, but Emma refused to take them.

"I mean it! Not sleepy!" She crossed her arms, either in indignation or fake indignation. Matt couldn't tell.

"Don't make me..." but before she could actually make a threat, Jessica pounced on Emma. Like a bossy older sister babysitting the younger, she mercilessly pinned Emma to the sofa and tickled her ribs.

Emma gasped for air, spitting out incoherent protests, until she managed to say, "Okay! Okay! I surrender! Señoritaaaa!"

"Shush shush!" the woman said, putting a finger across her lips as well as Emma's. "Not too loud or the noise police will be here!"

"It's your fault!" Emma grumped. But this time, instead of crossing her arms, she held them out. Jessica lifted Emma off the sofa and shuffled her down the hall.

"You can try some of my PJs on, but I think your ass is too tiny to fit, sweetie!"

Matt glanced at his watch. For such an eventful day—rather, night—it was barely three in the morning. *I suppose if Emma slept poorly she'd already be tired,* he thought to himself. Then he mentally smacked his forehead. *Of course she slept poorly. God, that poor girl. I'm so lucky Jessica was here, this place would be hell for Emma otherwise.*

The old soldier realized he was still holding his things. He gently lay the rucksack on the living room floor, then unslung his rifle. He automatically began removing all the live ammo from it, something he hadn't done since before the apocalypse began. When he realized what he was doing, it struck him that his brain really did feel safe. He would have to count his ammo at some point, just to make sure his estimates lined up with reality. *Not that I'm particularly low on rounds, but...*

Matt realized after a second that he was feeling tired too, it had been an eventful 24 hours. He had nearly run into a pack of the monsters, then been forced to kill them all. Thinking back on that briefly, Matt suspected he killed enough in that little firefight to double his zombie kill count. Then he had met Emma. Then Jackson. Then Pierce. And finally... Jessica. After a moment of spacing out, in which he may have been recalling the tight jeans, Matt rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. Looking for something else on which he could focus his attention, Matt looked around the living room. There were sensible blackout curtains on the window, something each occupied apartment probably had now for security reasons as much as anything. The furniture, including the sofa, seemed a little cheap on closer inspection. Cheap, or old, which made sense if Jessica lived alone here on a teacher's salary. The fanciest objects, in fact, were the picture frames. Dozens of portraits and collages hung on the walls or were propped up on the end tables. Family was most prominent, although a collage of college-age Jessica and friends hung prominently on one wall. The only other items on the wall were a framed degree, as well as a large picture of her in a graduation cap and gown flanked by a middle-aged Latino couple. Parents?

Matt continued scanning the walls and, by the time he had made a full circuit, Jessica returned at the end of the hallway. She smiled briefly, saying, "She's sound asleep, the little angel." Matt turned towards Jessica, about to speak. But before he could, Jessica closed the short distance between them, flung her arms around the man, and began to weep.

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 16/05/20(Fri)12:03 No. 24282 ID: 2c85a4

Oh my god, it feels amazing to write again.

Listen, to all of you out in elit-land. Thank you for your patience and everything. It seems every month that this board is getting more dead, but I'm still happy when Roommates updates, or when something new and interesting pops up. Seriously, though, Uncle Rick, has the story of Tombs really come to an end?

Okay, enough of that.

So you'll see where my story is going, maybe. And you're probably going to find an editorial mistake, since I'm pretty goddamn sleepy (4am Eastern) and too excited to properly proofread. Fuck that shit. You all need more story... Then again, why bother posting on elit if there's NO SEX?!?!? Sorry, again, and please be patient.

I always welcome your comments, or at least your lurking approval. Whether or not you hate it or love it, let me know what you think. I'm still open to all sorts of suggestions, too. Or character ideas. Do you want to help me flesh out a future episode? Do you want to be a character in my fucking story!? Shit, dude, let me know and I'll do it. Don't want to leave a public comment? My email address is on almost each one of my updates, just click on the part that says Phoenix up there. I still check that email every time I think about this story.

That's another thing I wanted to mention while I'm apologizing for my absence. It isn't like I forgot about you, I just didn't want to comment without an actual finished chapter! I've been thinking about the next direction for this particular episode for months, literally. And, even though I missed that stupid February deadline, I've been mentally outlining this story the whole time. So if I can keep churning out chapters, they should be pretty decently well-developed ideas.

Still, nothing develops ideas more than feedback. Hint, hint.

Alright, news update over. Talk to you guys later.

PS: I did a word-counter thing on all of the chapters so far. I'm up to motherfucking 14,000+ WORDS holy fucking shit balls of fire! This is a goddamn NOVELLA already, holy shit.

PPS: Does anyone want to see the cheesy erotic lit I wrote almost 10 years ago when I was in high school? It's pretty godawful and I'd put it in another thread. But if you guys want to see my laughable and un-edited first attempts, I'd consider posting them... let me know down below.

Anonymous 16/05/20(Fri)23:38 No. 24285 ID: 47ae02

Fucking hell, Phoenix. Welcome back; we missed you. Liking the new chapter; you do a great job of exposition. Can't wait for the next one.

Anonymous 16/05/22(Sun)22:52 No. 24286 ID: 358a31

Great stuff so far. Really looking forward to seeing where this is going.

Anonymous 16/06/02(Thu)11:36 No. 24302 ID: fd0f03

Just read the last chapter and enjoyed it(tho I am waiting for sexy time, the build up is great), laughed hard about our lurking approval, which, for me, is true. Thanks for the update n post away, I'd like to read your early work, just to see the artists in the early days.

Soli 16/06/08(Wed)11:11 No. 24328 ID: cd8c01

And another author rises from the ashes. Good to see you're back too phoenix. Liking where this story is going.

My suggestion to you would be, dont develop the relationship between matt and Emma too quickly(if indeed a relationship between them is coming at all).

Doing it slow, maybe having Jessica and matt form a relationship first, and having emma maybe get jealous, before killing Jessica off would be much more compelling in my opinion.

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 16/06/10(Fri)00:51 No. 24330 ID: fe6dc2


Hey Soli! Thanks for the comment, bro!

I was going to have Emma kill Jessica anyway, and then a zombie kills Emma and Matt fucks the zombie. Thoughts?

Soli 16/06/10(Fri)01:10 No. 24332 ID: 21be5e

Ha, I totally meant having the zombies or rednecks kill off Jessica, but your idea is way better. But why not go one step further and have matt fuck zombie Emma? Or hey maybe he will find out his jizz is like zombrex and she has to suck him off daily to keep herself from turning.

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 16/06/10(Fri)03:44 No. 24333 ID: fe6dc2


"Cum with me if you want to live."

Bkil 16/06/11(Sat)08:54 No. 24340 ID: ecd4c3

Nice update I like the current pace of the story.

I had three interesting to me thoughts of where this could go maybe. Feel free to use any or none of them.

Jackson, Jessica, and Matthew have a threesome and then bring Emma in to teach her. Or just Jessica and Matthew teach Emma. Or maybe Emma sees Jessica bring Jackson back to her apartment one night and Emma wants to try what they are doing with Matthew.

Soli 16/06/11(Sat)21:39 No. 24341 ID: b53834

I agree with bkil about the pacing. The slow build is definitely called for in this story.

I wouldn't go for the "teaching" trope though. I may be wrong, but to me it doesn't fit the characters or the story type. That's more of a theme to be used in a happy go lucky story where the girl is naive but curious.

Emma is young, but intelligent, and I would say a story like this would benefit more from a relationship built from their dependence on one another, and that they are each others main source of human contact.

The way I sort of see the story going is that something goes bad with storming the depot, a la the prison being overrun in the walking dead, and Matt escapes, then searches for Emma, finds her with Jessica, and they continue on together. A relationship with Jessica forms, Emma gets jealous, but then something happens to Jessica, and their bond grows through grief.

Hopefully that doesn't end up being a spoiler. Obviously I have no idea what's going to happen since I'm not writing it, but that's the sort of direction I would probably choose if I were writing a zombie apocalypse story.

Phoenix!!xlZGywLzWw 16/06/13(Mon)07:47 No. 24346 ID: fe6dc2

I love all the speculation! But now I have to prove you all wrong by completely changing the original plan.


[Return] [Entire Thread] [Last 50 posts]

Delete post []
Report post