(Apocalypse based off of the I am Legend MOVIE)
[indent]It has been four years since the world has been devastated by an[/indent] outbreak of the genetically engineered Krippen Virus that was meant to cure cancer. Instead of becoming a miracle cure, it killed 90% of the population, and turned another 9% into hyper-predatory, hairless, UV sensitive monsters that can only roam the streets at night and burn in the sun.
[indent]The virus went airborne within the first couple of weeks, and anyone[/indent] who was not immune either died or became a "Darkseeker". Only 1% of the population was immune, and most of them were killed off quickly by the hungry monsters that had taken over the world.
[indent]For years, people in different parts of the world had no way of[/indent] contacting eachother, and in their solitude, thought they were the last on earth.
[indent]That is, until they heard the broadcast.[/indent]
[center][emoji=skull size=1][/center]
[i]"Uhhh. Hello? Hello? Anyone out there? My name is Farren Wilde. I am in Chicago Illinois, USA. I am a survivor... I know it's a long-shot, but I hope that there are others out here like me. I know there has to be. If anyone is out there, head to Chicago, Millennium Park, I'm there for several hours a day in the middle of the day. I have a place that's well fortified. I have food, and all the water you could work for, and most of all, I have companionship. My name is Farren Wilde. Chicago Illinois. Millennium Park. Broadcast over."[/i]
[center][emoji=skull size=1][/center]
(Anyone, feel free to add characters)
@Pheonix404
(Apocalypse based off of the I am Legend MOVIE)
It has been four years since the world has been devastated by an
outbreak of the genetically engineered Krippen Virus that was meant to cure cancer. Instead of becoming a miracle cure, it killed 90% of the population, and turned another 9% into hyper-predatory, hairless, UV sensitive monsters that can only roam the streets at night and burn in the sun.
The virus went airborne within the first couple of weeks, and anyone
who was not immune either died or became a "Darkseeker". Only 1% of the population was immune, and most of them were killed off quickly by the hungry monsters that had taken over the world.
For years, people in different parts of the world had no way of
contacting eachother, and in their solitude, thought they were the last on earth.
That is, until they heard the broadcast.
"Uhhh. Hello? Hello? Anyone out there? My name is Farren Wilde. I am in Chicago Illinois, USA. I am a survivor... I know it's a long-shot, but I hope that there are others out here like me. I know there has to be. If anyone is out there, head to Chicago, Millennium Park, I'm there for several hours a day in the middle of the day. I have a place that's well fortified. I have food, and all the water you could work for, and most of all, I have companionship. My name is Farren Wilde. Chicago Illinois. Millennium Park. Broadcast over."
(Anyone, feel free to add characters)
@
Pheonix404
As far as he knew, he was the last soldier alive.
He wasn’t completely sure, but it also seemed like he was the last person alive in general.
He hadn’t seen anyone in years. The last time he had seen someone else alive was when everyone else in his Squad’s camp had been sick with the virus. Everyone else had gotten sick. No amount of training could keep them from dying from all of the internal bleeding.
Everyone everywhere had gotten sick. Most had died. Some became those things that stalked the night. The ones that didn’t die. The ones that got stronger and scarier, and lost all of their hair, and would tear anything and everything to shreds if they got ahold of it --including people.
As far as he knew, they had gotten everyone else who had been alive.
Except for him.
Well, sure, sure, there could be others. If he were immune, or just a carrier, or whatever it was, then surely there could be others like him who adapted to the new monsters too. Hell, there could even be military out there like him, securing a safe haven or something like that...
But he hadn’t seen any.
Which circled back around to this:
As far as he knew, he was the last soldier alive.
(And probably the last human too.)
That was, at least, what he had thought.
Until the day he heard the broadcast.
As far as he knew, he was the last soldier alive.
He wasn’t completely sure, but it also seemed like he was the last person alive in general.
He hadn’t seen anyone in years. The last time he had seen someone else alive was when everyone else in his Squad’s camp had been sick with the virus. Everyone else had gotten sick. No amount of training could keep them from dying from all of the internal bleeding.
Everyone everywhere had gotten sick. Most had died. Some became those things that stalked the night. The ones that didn’t die. The ones that got stronger and scarier, and lost all of their hair, and would tear anything and everything to shreds if they got ahold of it --including people.
As far as he knew, they had gotten everyone else who had been alive.
Except for him.
Well, sure, sure, there could be others. If he were immune, or just a carrier, or whatever it was, then surely there could be others like him who adapted to the new monsters too. Hell, there could even be military out there like him, securing a safe haven or something like that...
But he hadn’t seen any.
Which circled back around to this:
As far as he knew, he was the last soldier alive.
(And probably the last human too.)
That was, at least, what he had thought.
Until the day he heard the broadcast.
It had been an overcast day. One of those days that it was too dangerous to go outside --and if he risked going outside, he couldn’t go far.
Instead, at first, he spent the day doing mediocre things: waking up and brushing his teeth, eating a balanced breakfast using the rations he had been able to pull from the entire city, wandering around the rec center that had been near his Squad’s makeshift basecamp, running laps in the gym, and then working out, eating lunch, then working those calories off too, taking a shower to wash off the sweat, finishing The Odyssey --for the third time-- and deciding that he had to risk raiding a library tomorrow.
He really wished he could do something more productive. Maybe he could have found and… eradicated the pack of infected that he heard every night. They screamed bloody murder and howled like wild things, damn them. All night long. Even with earplugs he couldn’t get any sleep because of how they put him on edge. If just one got into the rec center, or into the men’s locker room where he barricaded himself each night, he was as good as dead.
During the day though, they stayed inside of their little hiding places in the dark, and if he found one of their hives, he would arson the building down so they would have to choose between burning in the fire and burning in the sun.
Either way, less for him to deal with at night.
He checked his watch and scowled. It was still not too late in the day, and he was running out of things to do. He’d hoped that book would have lasted him longer. It would have before. He used to be a slow reader until he had to learn to pass the time by reading.
He used to be slow at most things… He joined the army because he had no other way to get into college.
Sure, he could’ve just not gone to college, that would’ve been easier… But he had been so determined to prove his parents wrong, to prove that he wasn’t worthless, that he wasn’t just an asset or a grunt to do their dirty work on the farm.
Then he decided to be an asset or a grunt to do the military’s dirty work, but at least they seemed to somewhat appreciate his capabilities as a meat-shield.
He smiled wryly at his little joke and found a bottle of whiskey. He didn’t resort to drinking often, but there wasn’t anything else he could do today.
Not that it mattered anymore. The military couldn’t pay for anything if there was no military and nothing to pay for.
But still, he had been nineteen when the Krippin Virus had been engineered, and it had been four years since the world had fallen into ruin, so he could’ve graduated with a bachelor’s in something by now. What would he have chosen? He wasn’t sure really. Now, he would want to be an English Major, but if the world hadn’t quite literally ended, he wouldn’t have read enough to want that to begin with. He would’ve figured something out though, and the army would have paid for it. He would’ve been able to get another job after his contract was up.
Maybe he wouldn’t want to though.
He took a sip from his bottle and stared at dull posters on the wall, reading about summer activities for kids and senior day at the pool.
Maybe, he thought, he would have just stayed in the army until he died. That would be pretty easy. He had always been good at working hard, keeping his head down, and following orders. He had been raised to be a worker. He had also been raised to never speak unless spoken to. He had rarely been spoken to… But that didn’t bother him. He’d thought the world had already had too much noise in it without him adding to it.
Back to the army, he thought.
He had made close friends in his Squad. All eight of them had become like brothers and sister. Even his Sarge was friendly in a firm and reasonable way, and she took no crap from the boys acting like she was weaker because of her sex.
Personally, he looked up to her. She was like the older sibling he’d always wanted, and he trusted her with his life. He trusted all of them. Especially Wilde, Nathans, and Garcias. They had become his closest friends…
But Wilde had been shot in a riot when they had been trying to separate the sick from the healthy. He had been the first one to die.
Garcias had been the third to last to succumb to the Virus.
He and Sarge had buried him. Nathans had been too weak after being bitten by one of the infected. He’d died eight hours later.
At first, it seemed like Sarge was going to be okay too, but then she started bleeding from her eyes, and they both knew what was happening.
He hadn’t known why he wasn’t getting sick, but he had drawn his blood and hoped somehow that there was a cure in it that would save her life.
It hadn’t.
Within two weeks of the initial outbreak, his whole squad was dead…
Except.
Him.
He downed the rest of the bottle.
Screw it, he thought, he’d go and visit their graves today, even if those things came out and killed him.
At least then it would be over.
He threw open the doors and strode outside with a wobbly and drunken confidence towards one of the cars parked on the street.
Come and get me! He thought. Fresh meat! Fresh blood! All you can eat the-last-man-on-earth buffet! Just gotta get past all the bullets and I’m all yours!
No.
He didn’t want to die. He still had so much to make up to the world. So many things to make right.
He needed to not drink at all, he thought, or else drink all the time so it didn’t affect him as much.
Oh well.
He swerved back and forth on the road.
At least he was the only person driving. No more traffic rules.
Someone come and pull me over! He thought gleefully, starting to speed. Come on, someone pull me over!
He suddenly realized he was sobbing uncontrollable.
Somebody please pull me over.
Please.
Anyone.
He slowed his car down. He hated being this reckless. He missed being the calm and quiet boy in the back of the classroom. The logical one who never went to parties or smoked or drank. Hell, he’d only started drinking after he was sure he was twenty-one, and even then, sparingly because of how bad he got.
The first two years, he’d thought that even without society intact to keep him in line, he’d stay the same soft spoken and disciplined person he’d always been. Even if he just had one person --one person-- he was so sure that he wouldn’t have downspiraled like this.
But what was the point. He was human.
He was the only human alive.
He wondered if he could die of loneliness. If so, it should have happened by then. He decided he would read some psychology books next to try to figure it out.
He started to fall into a blank and fuzzy monotony of thoughts.
And then he was startled by a crackling on the radio.
With a yelp of surprise, he pulled the steering wheel and swerved, slamming on the breaks and hitting his nose on the dashboard.
It was quiet again for a moment, and he thought he had imagined it.
Then it did it again.
He could almost make out words… He turned the knob on the radio back and forth carefully, when he finally found something clear enough to somewhat understand.
"Uhhh. Hello? Hello? Anyone out there? My name is Farren Wilde. I am in Chicago Illinois, USA. I am a survivor... I know it's a long-shot, but I hope that there are others out here like me. I know there has to be. If anyone is out there, head to Chicago, Millennium Park, I'm there for several hours a day in the middle of the day. I have a place that's well fortified. I have food, and all the water you could work for, and most of all, I have companionship. My name is Farren Wilde. Chicago Illinois. Millennium Park. Broadcast over."
It cut off.
He blinked.
Had he hallucinated it?
No.
So what was he supposed to do now? Chicago was only a couple miles away…
He decided he would go.
But first, he had to visit the graves.
It had been an overcast day. One of those days that it was too dangerous to go outside --and if he risked going outside, he couldn’t go far.
Instead, at first, he spent the day doing mediocre things: waking up and brushing his teeth, eating a balanced breakfast using the rations he had been able to pull from the entire city, wandering around the rec center that had been near his Squad’s makeshift basecamp, running laps in the gym, and then working out, eating lunch, then working those calories off too, taking a shower to wash off the sweat, finishing The Odyssey --for the third time-- and deciding that he had to risk raiding a library tomorrow.
He really wished he could do something more productive. Maybe he could have found and… eradicated the pack of infected that he heard every night. They screamed bloody murder and howled like wild things, damn them. All night long. Even with earplugs he couldn’t get any sleep because of how they put him on edge. If just one got into the rec center, or into the men’s locker room where he barricaded himself each night, he was as good as dead.
During the day though, they stayed inside of their little hiding places in the dark, and if he found one of their hives, he would arson the building down so they would have to choose between burning in the fire and burning in the sun.
Either way, less for him to deal with at night.
He checked his watch and scowled. It was still not too late in the day, and he was running out of things to do. He’d hoped that book would have lasted him longer. It would have before. He used to be a slow reader until he had to learn to pass the time by reading.
He used to be slow at most things… He joined the army because he had no other way to get into college.
Sure, he could’ve just not gone to college, that would’ve been easier… But he had been so determined to prove his parents wrong, to prove that he wasn’t worthless, that he wasn’t just an asset or a grunt to do their dirty work on the farm.
Then he decided to be an asset or a grunt to do the military’s dirty work, but at least they seemed to somewhat appreciate his capabilities as a meat-shield.
He smiled wryly at his little joke and found a bottle of whiskey. He didn’t resort to drinking often, but there wasn’t anything else he could do today.
Not that it mattered anymore. The military couldn’t pay for anything if there was no military and nothing to pay for.
But still, he had been nineteen when the Krippin Virus had been engineered, and it had been four years since the world had fallen into ruin, so he could’ve graduated with a bachelor’s in something by now. What would he have chosen? He wasn’t sure really. Now, he would want to be an English Major, but if the world hadn’t quite literally ended, he wouldn’t have read enough to want that to begin with. He would’ve figured something out though, and the army would have paid for it. He would’ve been able to get another job after his contract was up.
Maybe he wouldn’t want to though.
He took a sip from his bottle and stared at dull posters on the wall, reading about summer activities for kids and senior day at the pool.
Maybe, he thought, he would have just stayed in the army until he died. That would be pretty easy. He had always been good at working hard, keeping his head down, and following orders. He had been raised to be a worker. He had also been raised to never speak unless spoken to. He had rarely been spoken to… But that didn’t bother him. He’d thought the world had already had too much noise in it without him adding to it.
Back to the army, he thought.
He had made close friends in his Squad. All eight of them had become like brothers and sister. Even his Sarge was friendly in a firm and reasonable way, and she took no crap from the boys acting like she was weaker because of her sex.
Personally, he looked up to her. She was like the older sibling he’d always wanted, and he trusted her with his life. He trusted all of them. Especially Wilde, Nathans, and Garcias. They had become his closest friends…
But Wilde had been shot in a riot when they had been trying to separate the sick from the healthy. He had been the first one to die.
Garcias had been the third to last to succumb to the Virus.
He and Sarge had buried him. Nathans had been too weak after being bitten by one of the infected. He’d died eight hours later.
At first, it seemed like Sarge was going to be okay too, but then she started bleeding from her eyes, and they both knew what was happening.
He hadn’t known why he wasn’t getting sick, but he had drawn his blood and hoped somehow that there was a cure in it that would save her life.
It hadn’t.
Within two weeks of the initial outbreak, his whole squad was dead…
Except.
Him.
He downed the rest of the bottle.
Screw it, he thought, he’d go and visit their graves today, even if those things came out and killed him.
At least then it would be over.
He threw open the doors and strode outside with a wobbly and drunken confidence towards one of the cars parked on the street.
Come and get me! He thought. Fresh meat! Fresh blood! All you can eat the-last-man-on-earth buffet! Just gotta get past all the bullets and I’m all yours!
No.
He didn’t want to die. He still had so much to make up to the world. So many things to make right.
He needed to not drink at all, he thought, or else drink all the time so it didn’t affect him as much.
Oh well.
He swerved back and forth on the road.
At least he was the only person driving. No more traffic rules.
Someone come and pull me over! He thought gleefully, starting to speed. Come on, someone pull me over!
He suddenly realized he was sobbing uncontrollable.
Somebody please pull me over.
Please.
Anyone.
He slowed his car down. He hated being this reckless. He missed being the calm and quiet boy in the back of the classroom. The logical one who never went to parties or smoked or drank. Hell, he’d only started drinking after he was sure he was twenty-one, and even then, sparingly because of how bad he got.
The first two years, he’d thought that even without society intact to keep him in line, he’d stay the same soft spoken and disciplined person he’d always been. Even if he just had one person --one person-- he was so sure that he wouldn’t have downspiraled like this.
But what was the point. He was human.
He was the only human alive.
He wondered if he could die of loneliness. If so, it should have happened by then. He decided he would read some psychology books next to try to figure it out.
He started to fall into a blank and fuzzy monotony of thoughts.
And then he was startled by a crackling on the radio.
With a yelp of surprise, he pulled the steering wheel and swerved, slamming on the breaks and hitting his nose on the dashboard.
It was quiet again for a moment, and he thought he had imagined it.
Then it did it again.
He could almost make out words… He turned the knob on the radio back and forth carefully, when he finally found something clear enough to somewhat understand.
"Uhhh. Hello? Hello? Anyone out there? My name is Farren Wilde. I am in Chicago Illinois, USA. I am a survivor... I know it's a long-shot, but I hope that there are others out here like me. I know there has to be. If anyone is out there, head to Chicago, Millennium Park, I'm there for several hours a day in the middle of the day. I have a place that's well fortified. I have food, and all the water you could work for, and most of all, I have companionship. My name is Farren Wilde. Chicago Illinois. Millennium Park. Broadcast over."
It cut off.
He blinked.
Had he hallucinated it?
No.
So what was he supposed to do now? Chicago was only a couple miles away…
He decided he would go.
But first, he had to visit the graves.
(This brings to bare the question, Which ending? The one where Will smith remains an a-hole to the bitter end? Or the one where he realizes he was the monster all along?)
(This brings to bare the question, Which ending? The one where Will smith remains an a-hole to the bitter end? Or the one where he realizes he was the monster all along?)
(YESSSSSSS You know the monster all along ending?! That's my favorite so that's the one I'm going with. I read the book and it's so great with the message I could rant for hours)
(YESSSSSSS You know the monster all along ending?! That's my favorite so that's the one I'm going with. I read the book and it's so great with the message I could rant for hours)
(So basically, peaceful coexistance IS plausible, if you go about it the right way. I can work with that)
(So basically, peaceful coexistance IS plausible, if you go about it the right way. I can work with that)
(Of course it'll take some time for this particular character to figure it out because all that's on his mind is vengeance
But the more he does the better the horrified realization is)
(Of course it'll take some time for this particular character to figure it out because all that's on his mind is vengeance
But the more he does the better the horrified realization is)
(I'm thinking mine will have already figured out the "You dont mess with me, I wont mess with you" route of leaving like... food offerings here and there as a way of saying "Don't eat me, I can cook!")
(I'm thinking mine will have already figured out the "You dont mess with me, I wont mess with you" route of leaving like... food offerings here and there as a way of saying "Don't eat me, I can cook!")
