Post by bianca on May 5, 2011 14:36:45 GMT -5
Bianca didn't often leave her apartment. Most people found her one eye with its pirate-patch intimidating for some reason. Well, either the eye-patch, or the fact that she was a total bitch to nearly everyone she met, all day everyday. This meant she really only left for food, alcohol, and the occasional bodyguard work. Her apartment was spacious, comfortable, and she knew full well that other than the occasional nods to neighbours on her excursions in and out, and the occasional friendly small-talk with her clients (and... occasional other things with the more attractive ones), she was a total hermit. That was why Bianca was relatively unharmed with the infection began.
Bianca spent most of her days working out, watching the news, surfing the net, and drinking. Sometimes she ate. Through the news, she knew that some things were going very, very wrong. Through the net she was learning about how to kill this new threat. She knew that she could probably stay here forever with her guns, but she didn't ever stock that much food in here, and god help her she was running low on the drink. She decided to brave the streets, it couldn't be that bad out there. It was probably just a few people running the streets in Manhattan, god knows the media liked to blow things up.
Her mother had always talked about not going into things without some sort of backup plan. So she slipped on some short shorts, a tank top, and a leather jacket. She had two holsters under her jacket, both of them filled with her favorite kind of gun, Desert Eagles with a laser sights. In her combat boot she had a serrated combat knife. She filled her pockets with clips of ammo for both of her pistols, with another clip hidden in the boot that didn't have a knife, a couple in her jacket pockets, and both guns fully locked and loaded. a smart girl always went prepared.
She went down the six floors of her apartment building. Her lobby was fine, the media was obviously overexaggerating. She left the fern filled room, and walked into one of the worst battlefields she had ever seen. People were dead here and there, bloodied and torn people, some moving weakly. She heard sirens in the distance, and there was plumes of smoke coming out of more than a few windows in each direction. The weirdest was pools of blood, and bloody footprints that were walking away.
"The fuck? I'm taking off the soundproofing of my apartment..." She thought she would have heard some of the screams that must have come with most of the dead. And the apparently not so dead. On her surprised exclamation, a head popped up on the other side of a car about fifteen feet away, and Bianca recognized her. It was the landlady. Dori? Doris? Dolores? Ah, yes, that was it. Dolores. The woman was a typical Dolores. She was a very large woman, and Bianca often seriously wondered how her small short and proportionately skinny legs supporter her large form. The woman as at least 300 pounds, and a bit shorter than Bianca.
She emerged from behind the car, she was missing an arm and an ear. Even more grotesque was the hole in her belly. The news hadn't been lying when it said that these creatures killed people, as Dolores walked, half a finger fell out of the gaping maw of her abdomen. Bianca stood gaping for half a second. She was used to wounds this large downing an enemy. Bianca drew one of her guns, fully intending to put the woman down, but to her left a much more seemingly huge problem was quickly approaching. A full-sized city bus was flying down her street at her, it's driver rather.., distracted by a "hungry" passenger. Bianca dodged out of the way, and the bus slammed into the lobby of her apartment building, effectively cutting her off from her apartment, and Dolores.
"I need a drink." And off she went, walking non-chalantly, whistling to the Mozart playing on her iPod, as her zombie landlady beat on the side of a burning destroyed bus, and her soon to be on-fire apartment, behind her; she had a couple of perfect guns, lots of ammo, and enough money and muscle to get herself a nice bottle of whiskey.
Bianca spent most of her days working out, watching the news, surfing the net, and drinking. Sometimes she ate. Through the news, she knew that some things were going very, very wrong. Through the net she was learning about how to kill this new threat. She knew that she could probably stay here forever with her guns, but she didn't ever stock that much food in here, and god help her she was running low on the drink. She decided to brave the streets, it couldn't be that bad out there. It was probably just a few people running the streets in Manhattan, god knows the media liked to blow things up.
Her mother had always talked about not going into things without some sort of backup plan. So she slipped on some short shorts, a tank top, and a leather jacket. She had two holsters under her jacket, both of them filled with her favorite kind of gun, Desert Eagles with a laser sights. In her combat boot she had a serrated combat knife. She filled her pockets with clips of ammo for both of her pistols, with another clip hidden in the boot that didn't have a knife, a couple in her jacket pockets, and both guns fully locked and loaded. a smart girl always went prepared.
She went down the six floors of her apartment building. Her lobby was fine, the media was obviously overexaggerating. She left the fern filled room, and walked into one of the worst battlefields she had ever seen. People were dead here and there, bloodied and torn people, some moving weakly. She heard sirens in the distance, and there was plumes of smoke coming out of more than a few windows in each direction. The weirdest was pools of blood, and bloody footprints that were walking away.
"The fuck? I'm taking off the soundproofing of my apartment..." She thought she would have heard some of the screams that must have come with most of the dead. And the apparently not so dead. On her surprised exclamation, a head popped up on the other side of a car about fifteen feet away, and Bianca recognized her. It was the landlady. Dori? Doris? Dolores? Ah, yes, that was it. Dolores. The woman was a typical Dolores. She was a very large woman, and Bianca often seriously wondered how her small short and proportionately skinny legs supporter her large form. The woman as at least 300 pounds, and a bit shorter than Bianca.
She emerged from behind the car, she was missing an arm and an ear. Even more grotesque was the hole in her belly. The news hadn't been lying when it said that these creatures killed people, as Dolores walked, half a finger fell out of the gaping maw of her abdomen. Bianca stood gaping for half a second. She was used to wounds this large downing an enemy. Bianca drew one of her guns, fully intending to put the woman down, but to her left a much more seemingly huge problem was quickly approaching. A full-sized city bus was flying down her street at her, it's driver rather.., distracted by a "hungry" passenger. Bianca dodged out of the way, and the bus slammed into the lobby of her apartment building, effectively cutting her off from her apartment, and Dolores.
"I need a drink." And off she went, walking non-chalantly, whistling to the Mozart playing on her iPod, as her zombie landlady beat on the side of a burning destroyed bus, and her soon to be on-fire apartment, behind her; she had a couple of perfect guns, lots of ammo, and enough money and muscle to get herself a nice bottle of whiskey.