The apocalypse came swifter than anticipated. The dead rose from their graves began slaughtering the risen, consuming their flesh, and corrupting them into living undead themselves. There is no military coming to save you, there are no safe zones. There is only survival, for as long as you can. This is your story.
You have been staying in a house on the outskirts of the city, in a small suburban cul de sac. You have gathered some supplies in the few days since the initial outbreak. You have not heard from your friends, your family, anyone. You are alone. You have taken to sleeping when you can, it is slowly becoming evening when you are awoken a strange noise.
[[What's that sound?]] The sound of a helicopter. It flitters above the house for a few brief moments before flying away, perhaps flying toward the city, perhaps escaping. You realise quickly that the sound of that helicopter has probably roused more than just yourself. You jolt awake, looking out of the window. A small horde, perhaps fifteen to twenty infected individuals stalk the streets, following the sound. You realise quickly that that'll bring them right to you. You realise you have two choices:
Running seems like the best option here. You grab your satchel which contains most of your supplies, your knife, and run out the door. It slams behind you as you bolt across the street. You duck and dash into a neighbouring garden before vaulting the fence, landing on your knees in the dirt. You look around and see you are no longer in immediate danger. With the houses behind you, you are faced with a large wooded area, redwood canopies hanging high above you. You realise quickly, as you begin to hear clawing on the fence behind you, that the only way to go is forward.
[[Into the Forest]] You quickly slip away from the window and into a wardrobe beofre you begin to hear smashing and clawing as undead begin to swarm into the house which you have been inhabiting. You watch from the crack between the doors as they swarm through, a few break the window where you'd watched them from and crawl out, attempting to find the fleeting helicopter. There are still two in the room with you. You realise now that you've left your supplies in your satchel which lies across the room on the desk. With your safehouse compromised you now have two options:
[[Run for supplies]]
[[Stay Hidden]] You stay hidden inside the wardrobe, trying not to move or draw attention. There is a lot of dust in here. A sudden urge to sneeze overcomes you. There was little you could do to contain it. Your sneeze brought the unwanted attention of the undead straight to you and after a brief but well-fought struggle to keep the wardrobe door closed, it was eventually pulled open. Your death was gruesome, mauled inside a wardrobe. Your supplies and knife just out of reach. There was [[No chance of survival]] .You burst from the wardrobe and make a dash for the supplies. You push one of the infected to the floor before coming face to face with the other. You realise now that to get the supplies you must get past this zombie. You reach for your knife before realising that it too lies with your supplies. You choose to:
[[Run without supplies]] You run into the forest. Hoping that the fence holding back the slowly growing tide of zombies is enough to hold it. You run for several minutes before slowing your pace. You hope that they won't follow you this far, but you can never be certain. You find yourself at a river crossing, a quick test of the water proves it to be cold. Very cold. With it being late autumn you aren't surprised but you aren't sure how to proceed. You eventually decide to:
[[Scale a tree and find a way to cross]]
[[Look for a bridge to cross]]
[[Cross the river here despite the cold]]
You wade into the water. The current is strong but you're strong enough to push through to the other side. Your clothes are soaked through, evening will be coming up soon. You're not in a good strategic location to set up a camp, but you know that continuing on in your wet clothes won't be good for your health.
In the end you decide to:
[[Set up camp here]]
Your supplies, although useful, aren't worth it. You run back through the door and out to the front porch. You notice a larger amount of infected approaching, likely drawn by the helicopter. You run across the street, vaulting the fence in your neighbour's garden and landing on your knees in the dirt. You're supply-less, but alive and unharmed. You brush yourself off and look towards the forest in front of you. You make off as you begin to hear the sounds of clawing and snarling coming from the fence behind you. Only a few moments after your initial run you begin to hear the fence snapping under the weight of the encroaching horde. You run deeper and deeper into the forest before eventually coming across a small cabin. you sneak around before noticing an old man tending to his garden. He does not seem to notice you. You decide to:
[[Approach the Old Man]]
[[Sneak into the cabin]]
You go for a punch, hoping to knock the creature down and regain your supplies. Your punch hits the side of it's face knocking it down. At this point you feel a sharp pain in your ankle. You look down to see the other infected had crawled after you and has begun to bite you. You kick it off, grab your supplies, your knife and run. You run out into the street, blood from your bitten ankle trailing your every step. You stumble your way across the street, noting the increasing number of infected in the area. You run into a garden across the road, climb the fence and fall into the dirt. You look down at your bleeding foot ...
[[Cut it off]]
[[It'll be fine ...]] You look up and down the river bank, not moving too far in any direction. It becomes apparent quite quickly that you can't see a lot from your current vantage point. It leaves you with two choices:
[[Cross the river here despite the cold]]
[[Scale a tree and find a way to cross]] You scale a tree hoping to find a decent way to cross. You can see a bridge in the distance, south of where you are now. You also notice a low-hanging canopy reaching across from the opposite bank that you might be able to jump to. You can hear the distant groans of zombies and a cracking which you gather to be the fence you left them behind not too long ago. You decide to:
[[Climb down and go to the bridge]]
[[Jump to the other canopy]] You keep going as the cold night air sets in. Your damp clothes becoming ever colder. You can hardly feel your skin any more. You feel heavy, slow. You continue to trudge on in the darkness as sleep claws at your eyelids. In the distance you see a fire. You try to get a closer look but can't see anyone. You decide to:
[[Approach the fire]]
[[Avoid the fire]] The old man is tending to his vegetable garden. You approach him, desperate, asking for help. He turns to you. Looks you up and down and explains that he can provide some supplies. He invites you into his house. You enter the house and he tells you to make yourself comfortable while he gets some supplies for you. You sit on a chair near the door. You can hear him fumbling around upstairs. A pile of clothes grabs your attention, men's clothes, women's clothes too. Children's clothes. All piled up under a blanket it the corner.
[[Wait for the old man to return]]
[[Leave the old man's house]]
You set up camp along the riverbank despite not being overly protected. You hang your clothes, start a small fire to warm you up and then drift off under the moonlight. You are awoken from your slumber by the snap of a twig. The next sound you hear is a gunshot as your brains are splattered across the forest floor. Scavengers had been drawn by your flames, and in this world it is the ambush predators who survive. There was [[No chance of survival]] You limp away. Knife at the ready. You can hear pounding on the fence behind you as you leave. As you stumble into the forest, lost, blood loss making you delirious. You stumble forth before coming across a clearing. You brace yourself against a tree. You can see some zombies in the clearing. You pull your knife close to you. You decide to
[[Walk away from the clearing ]]
[[Rush the zombies]] You sneak into the cabin trying to be as quiet as you can. You search around for some supplies and a bag to put them in to replace your missing supplies. You find a hatch to a basement. Inside you find a horror show. Bodies carved and butchered, chunks of flesh missing. Before you can run, you take a blow to the head from behind. The next time you wake up you can see the old man's face leering over you, cleaver in hand. It swings towards your head, killing you instantly. There's no cure for a cleaver to the head, there was [[No chance of survival]] You head south, down the river bank, eventually coming across the old bridge. There are a few cars left abandonned on it, the lack of zombies concerns you but you continue regardless. You manage to cross the river safely. Slowly it is becoming darker. You leave the bridge behind you and continue down the road. The roadsigns point out that you'll eventually reach Springport if you continue to follow the road. From your knowledge, Springport is a small coastal town, not too large but maybe overlooked by scavengers. You decide:
[[Head toward Springport]]
[[Head off on your own]]
You decide to jump to the next canopy. It isn't until you're soaring through the air until you realise it's too long a jump. You plummet. Falling into the river, your legs snapping on impact with the riverbed. The rough river drags you under and before you know it you're beginning to black out underneath the water. It's mostly painless, the cold water numbing your broken legs, and washing your life away. There was [[No chance of survival]] ."Then kindly get going." The voice responds. You slowly lift yourself up, continue walking. At least you can feel your hands now. You walk for a bit before coming to a steep decline towards a town. Springport. You descend to the town and decide the best course of action is to:
[[Look for a boat]]
[[Scavenge for supplies]]
You travel along the road to Springport. You pass several abandonned cars along the way, scavenging a few supplies for yout stash. You eventually find yourself at the top of the hill leading to Springport. The town seems quiet. You currently have enough supplies to last you a fortnight at max. You decide to:
[[Look for a boat]]
[[Scavenge for supplies]] You decide to throw caution to the wind and head wherever your heart desires. What happened on that journey? Only you now that. All I know is that it ended as innevitably as all paths on this road lead. With death. There is no magical cure. No army coming to save you. In the end there is just [[No chance of survival]] You decide to avoid the warmth of the fire. The cold is causing your nose to run. Your legs burn from walking but you force yourself to keep going. you eventually make it to a sharp decline, you edge your way down to the base. At the bottom of the decline you see a bag in the distance, possibly with more supplies in it. You decide to:
[[Search the bag]]
[[Leave the bag]] You approach the fire. The camp seems pretty recently abandonned based on the fact that thefire is still burning. Perhaps someone heard you shambling through the forest. You're freezing though, so you take shelter close to the fire. You can begin to feel your skin again under the heat. Then you hear a muffled moving, before you feel the cold barrel of a gun on your neck. A voice asks you what you're doing here.
[[I'm just passing through ...]]
[[I need help ...]]
You walk away from the clearing. The bite on your leg flaring. You can feel a fever setting in. You're losing track of time. The whole world is spinning. You decide to take a rest in the forest. It's a rest you'll never wake up from. After taking a single bite, well, there's [[No chance of survival]] This whole scenario unsettles you. You know it'll mean leaving without supplies but you decide it's for the best. You leave quietly as to not disturb the old man. You make your way out into the forest. You carry on for a while before coming to a clearing. In the clearing there are a few zombies, missing limbs, bloody gashes to the head that clearly weren't enough to kill them. You don't have any weapons, so you decide to
[[Rush the zombies]]
[[Leave the clearing]] You decide to wait for the old man to return. A few moments later you hear him call to you, asking you to help move something heavy upstairs. As you reach the top of the stairs you are caught unaware as a baseball bat swings into you, knocking you back down the stairs. As you try to compose yourself you feel the sharp pain of a blade hit you in the shoulder. A cleaver stuck deep, as you look up the bat comes down on you once again. There is no recovery. Sometimes, the weak must kill the strong to survive. There truly was [[No chance of survival]] The barrel lowers slightly.
A young woman was the one holding the gun. You introduce yourselves, you talk by the fire. You decide to team up. You had no real plans to accomplish and she needs help making it to the next major city where her family apparently resided. She needs to see who lived. Your adventure has finished, but your jounrey has just begun as you both set off towards the capitol. The trip will be fraught with danger, hardships and, of course, there'll be [[No chance of survival]] Double-click this passage to edit it.You decide to rush in. Maybe there'd be some supplies here. Even if not, a world with a few fewer zombies is worth it. As you charge in, however, you trip on a rock covered by a small tuft of grass. You fall and can't position yourself before one of the zombies has fallen on you. Biting into your neck. You try to push against it but it continues to bite as another falls down on top. The pain is agonising. As you die, you realise there was [[No chance of survival]] You run out, fast and low to the bag. Just as you grab it you feel the rope tighten around your foot as you're lifted gih into the air. You dangle upside down for a while before a figure walks out. He aims a shotgun at you. You struggle as he takes your supplies from you. Then he cocks the barrel. He shoots you in the head, to prevent reanimation. A shot to the head? Yeah there's no cure for that, and [[No chance of survival]]
You leave the clearing and head further on through the forest. The sky turns dark as you walk through the night. You eventually come to the edge of the forest as day breaks. Before you is a small town. A port town. Sitting along the coast. There are perhaps twenty houses down a sharp recline. At the end of town, a small port. You decide to:
[[Scavenge for supplies]]
[[Look for a boat]] You run to the docks, zombies fresh on your trail. You eventually find a small fishing boat and try to set sail, but the horde is on you before you can get out of the port. You're knocked into the water, zombies grappling and biting you. The last thing you see being the sun's slow rise into the morning sky. There was [[No chance of survival]] You decide to prioritse more supplies over shelter. You find a few run down shops, almost untouched due to the secluded nature of the town. You gather a few cans of food, some miscellaneous baubles. Then you see it. A small horde encroaching on the town. A new weapon lies behind the counter in the shop you're in. A fire axe for emergencies. You take it. The small town is about to slowly become engulfed. You decide to:
[[Quickly check the docks]]
[[Fight your way out of town]] You decide that getting off the mainland for a bit give you better survival odds. You look around the old port before coming across an old fishing boat. It's small, could fit 4 people at a push. But it still sails. Do you:
[[Cast off immediately]]
[[Go for one last scavenging run]] You fight your way out of town, the fire axe proving much more useful than your knife. You walk off into the sunrise. Whatever your journey held next was up to you, but it'd always end the same way. As there's [[No chance of survival]] As you're casting off you notice the town slowly becoming engulfed by another small horde and secretly delight that you didn't go for that final supply run. Now there's only one thing left to do:
[[Sail into the sunrise]] You decide to scavenge for some last minute supplies, but it's not until you're on the main street that you realise your mistake. A small horde shambling towards you, you try to make your way back but find yourself cut off by even more. Then, one takes you by surprise, biting you in the shin. As you reel back in pain, another has caught up to you and sinks itself into your neck. You fall as they fall onto you. Clawing and ripping into your flesh. You bleed out on the streets, with [[No chance of survival]] You sail into the sunrise, you can fish for a few weeks before you'll have to return to the mainland for more supplies. However, there are no people or zombies out here, so for now you're safe. For this very brief moment, you've escaped your fate. But even on the high seas, there's [[No chance of survival]] You grab your knife, bite your lips and plunge your knife into your foot, attempting to remove the bite. You scream. The fence behind you is already being pounded by an incoming horde. You brace yourself, cut harder, slicing skin and muscle until it is nothing but bone. Using your knife you saw at the bone until your foot is removed. blood pools around you. You feel weak. You try to stand but you stumble as more blood just rushes from your foot. As you attempt to bandage it the fence comes down on top of you as the undead masses pour over it. You are fortunate that you die of bloodloss before they bagan eating you. You have died, there truly was [[No chance of survival]]