I'm not sure if this warrants the right for a topic so lock it needed.
Basically, this short story ties directly into the events I run on GTA IV online.
However this is in the form of a report from the view of a mysterious character that records the acts of the survivors.
Even if this is warranted for a topic let me know what you think, it's my first time writing, help and feedback appreciated!
A virus hit Liberty City.
Within minutes everyone fell ill, itching, sweating..
Within hours hospitals were full..
Within days the city was gone..
Three days later, survivors started to appear, they bound together.
Here are the records:
I was searching for supplies, in a small strip club, Honkers, suddenly I heard movement from the back room, I raise my Glock to meet the door and duck behind the bar. A group of party go-ers stumble and crawl out covered in all sorts of mess, I swear the were infect until suddenly one says "Hell of a f*ckin' party." I wasn't sure if they had partied so hard they completely missed the span of outbreak or if they had witnessed it and wanted to die with a smile of there faces, either way, they were in for a surprise.
They walk outside, I exit through the back door and view them from the behind the dumpster, they start arguing: "Where the f*ck is my car!" "I don't know!" "Tell me, or god help you, you little piece of Sh-" A gunshot breaks the argument, it sounded near. They head towards the sound just up the street, I trail behind them unseen. As they exit Honkers they look back all along the outer wall, bodies, women, children, laying there lifeless. One of the survivors notice one of them as a friend, or something and leans down to slide down the eye lids, suddenly he corpse jumps to life and bites off three fingers in shock they all stand there frozen, a man shouts "OVER HERE! THE SPRUNK FACTORY! RUN!" They start running up the street, one stops looks back sees the man standing there frozen as the corpse gets to its feet. The Man on the roof of the Sprunk Factory shouts "Keep running I've got him!" The man then raises his rifle and aims down the street, he alligns the scope with the 7 fingered survivor's forehead, suddenly a blast is heard the survivor screams, the bullet curved due to the beaten barrel of the rifle, tearing the survivors shoulder-blade open and knocking them to the ground, the remaining corpses jump to life the crawl to the survivor screaming on the ground and devoured there body. I remained hidden behind the wall, and as they 'fed' I ran around the back and climbed to the roof of the Sprunk Factory.
The survivors made in to the factory and met with the man, I overheard parts of there conversation through the ruins of what was once a rooftop, he introduced himself as Vin, a heated argument started, seemed to be ready Vin shooting the 7 fingered survivor named Thomas. Vin explained to them the infection, and the outbreak the caused it. "Sounds like typical Hollywood bullsh*t!" Shouted a survivor, "It truly is, and you know that means we need more guns and supplies." Replied Vin he continued with his plan.
After his briefing and a few interruptions it was clear, they were heading to Funland in the morning. I decided I'd set up camp just across from the factory on a rooftop, open area if I need to run for my life.
I awoke to the sound of screaming, I look across to the factory, hordes have surrounded the building, I grab my backpack and head towards the railing I used to cross, suddenly a pack of three of these infected run at me, I shoot all three of them, headshot, headshot, headshot, the sound diverted most of the horde to head towards myself, I ran.
I'm not sure of the time, during the run I fell losing my Glock and breaking my watch, however I did lose those freaks. I'm currently held up in a shipping container, clearly was a home to someone else prior to the outbreak as there is a torn mattress which although smells of faded urine beats sleeping on the corrugated steel. I'm going to call it a night.
I awake around midday, I return to the factory, there a corpses but only those rotten the survivors have left, I'll continue to monitor them.
After looting a gas-station I found a new watch, real colorful not my taste but not really spoiled for choice, and a PCJ 600. I make it to the Algonquin Bridge before the piece of sh*t crashes on me and I'm left with a large, two wheeled paperweight. So there I am three-quarters of the way across the bridge now resorting to being on foot. The blockade a head seemed to large to get the bike through anyway, I may be able to climb it or crawl under. A cop car has it sirens blaring as I approach it,armed with merely my issued knife. I peer inside and right there before my eyes, a young cop only a recruit judging by his uniform, I see an ID card pinned on his chest, "Chris Sh-" it reads, I can barely make the rest out, half the card is covered in blood and flesh, if the card wasn't there you couldn't identify poor Chris, shotgun in his lap with the barrel sitting against his remaining lower jaw. I reach in a grab the shotgun, it was an effort to jerk it free. I start to search for ammo I notice the box sitting between his feet, I reach down over his lap and grab the box, suddenly his lower jaw falls I freak and jump up hitting the horn of the car mistakenly. I hear metal shifting from the blockade and a horde of the infect start to crawl under it. I quickly count my shells only 13 shell, unlucky I know. My training kicks in I start to kick the door of the cop car, I then blast the hinge of the door with the shotgun, the door breaks off I carry it to the edge of the bridge and view the dark water below, I freeze holding the door above the railing, the horde runs closer I jump onto the railing drop the door then jump, the door hits the water parting it and I land near the split, I swim to shore and hold up in a nearby garage.
The story has yet to continue, as you see in my signature the third day is yet to occur.