The blood in her mouth was mixing with the sweat dripping in through her lips. Copper and salt was all she could taste beyond pure adrenaline. Her mind was racing as fast as her heart as she navigated her way through the pitch black mansion hallway. She wasn't sure how long the power had been out... she'd only noticed the absence of the light now that it was getting dark out and she needed it.

Were they a mutation? Or something right out of a real horror movie? She'd never seen a mutation like this before. Or effecting so many. And she knew... she knew after everything that happened this morning... it had to be the unthinkable.

The events played over in her mind as she tried to understand how to plan her next move. Survivors. She needed to find the other survivors.

She'd woken unusually early that morning because of the scraping at her door. Thinking it was Star she mumbled to the dog to wait a minute surprised when the dog whimpered from her bed. Her eyes fluttered open, the dog was shuttering and had peed everywhere. She'd cursed and sat up to see the dog terrified. "What's going on boy?" she slipped off the bed to change the blankets. Something had the dog scared.

The scraping at the door paused for a moment and then intensified followed by a low gurgling sound.

"What the hell?" Raina cautiously approached the door reaching for her tritan. She very rarely used it- it was more of keep sake but suddenly her instincts were telling her it was important.

She inched toward the door slowly while Star clawed as far under the bed as he could and whimpered... more pee seeping freely across the floor from his space. Raina held her tritan tight and it extended to its full potential. She reached for the door knob and unlocked it then stepped back.

The noise stopped and the door silently swung open. A little blond boy of maybe 11 stood in a slumped position with his hand still outstretched from scraping at the door. His face was cast downward and his skin unnaturally pale. Her mind wondered if she'd met him before at the mansion and wondered what his power was. Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw blood droplets land on the floor in front of him. His head turned to look at her and his mouth was open just a little further than should be natural. It was coated in dripping blood. His eyes were mostly white and half his throat was torn away.

"h-hey..." said Raina backing up toward her bed reaching underneath it to find Star while the child was still motionless though he'd started making a low hissing sound now. "What happened to you? You need some help I'll take you to Doc Prof..." she scooped Star into her hand who whined and fought her the whole way. She stuffed him inside her hoody sweatshirt- a way she'd generally carry him around and instead of poking his head through curiously the puppy dug whimpering into her stomach while shaking.

The blond boy's eyes rolled and his head lopped to the side inclining toward her. Suddenly his pupils that she could initially barely see became giant as the kid lunged at her. "Holy Shi-!"

Raina leaped to get out of the way and the kid caught her shirt ripping it thrashing in the air trying to bite her, "what the?" She skidded across the floor at the kid came at her with unnatural speed and Raina let out a blasting note causing his feet to freeze in place. Instead of trying to free itself the boy continued to try and come after her.

That had been this morning. And she'd seen others. He wasn't the first. While trying to escape she'd seen many all day. Gnawing on God knows what.

It had been easy with the light. Until the things noticed you they were slow moving and with all the blood you could spot them a mile away. She hadn't seen anyone she knew yet. Maybe a few obscure faces... but none of her friends. Were they alive? Was she dreaming? Were they experiencing the same thing? God she hoped they were ok.

She was running down the halls now. Trying to get to the War Room. If there were any survivors... that's where they'd be. Then they could figure out what was going on... and what they were going to do about it...

Mettaliar sat at the far end of his room. The farthest away from the door as he possibly could get. He held his staff and had leaned it against the wall. His eyes never left the door. Never had he been so scared in his lifetime, not even back in his days living in New Jersey. Something was going on outside and he had no idea what it could possibly be. From what he saw, many of the people who lived in the mansion were becoming victim to some sort of disease that were making them... zombies? Could it possibly be true? Were ZOMBIES actually becoming real and not just everyone's greatest fear? Mettaliar tried to push the thought from his mind, yet it just wouldn't leave his mind. The hunger for human flesh, the lack of mind or conscious, the droning of voices. While almost impossible, it seemed to be true.

Mettaliar sighed to himself and crept back into the little ball he had made himself. He kept his greenish-hazel eyes on the door and never left it's sight. His guitar amp, mini-fridge and guitars were all pushed against it to stop from being broken into. He shook his head as he tried to relive what had happened that day. All he could remember was going downstairs to get some breakfast and suddenly running away from a horde of apparent "zombies" back up to his room. Ever since then, he's just been in this position watching the door. He shook his head and tried to keep quiet. How could this have happened? What was it that started all of this madness? Was it limited to the mansion, or is this a worldwide incident. How many survivors were there left? The questions were never ending, yet he tried to quell them.

If there were any survivors out there, he had hoped they would find him. He had left a sign outside of his door for people to read. He had hoped that these "zombies" had truly lost all human characteristics such as readiong. Besides Fade, which the thought of that truly scared him. He had hoped any survivors would be able to read his message. It was on a regular 8"x11" piece of paper and the writing was in large sharpie. The message was simple

"TO ALL SURVIVORS:
IF YOU ARE NEEDING SHELTER
KNOCK THREE TIMES
I WILL ANSWER
-METTALIAR"

He sighed as he kept watch at the door. He had hoped someone... anyone... would pass by and see the sign. Not only would it signal that someone else besides him was alive in this house, but it would also give him some sort of company. He could out for a while without much food on his own, yet sitting by himself alone would definitely take a toll on his sanity. Plus, giving someone the responsibility to watch over the door would let him sleep. He knew he would be too scared to sleep for fear of being killed in his sleep by these "zombie" beings. He shook his head away from the thought and looked at the door again. It would be a long wait until someone else arrived.

A drive of terror was all it could be called, the Ranger was driving through New York City in his 1969 Dodge Charger the passenger seat loaded with guns and ammunition from the small armory in his house. For the most part the road had been clear. It seemed these, what he guessed would be most aptly called, zombies were mostly inside building although some were in the streets.

He had woken up that morning thinking nothing amiss until he walked outside and before his eyes was an apocalyptic sight. Crashed cars and walking dead, some seemed to be consuming flesh of others who had not risen. He had assumed they were walking dead, but he was not one-hundred percent sure. And following a zombie rushing him and being unaffected by his tranq darts he hurried back inside and barricaded his front door.

He quickly decided that his house would not be the best place to hole up, he didn't have enough food to last and it would not defend against the zombies that long. He decided that the mutant mansion would be a good place, perhaps with their powers it could be better defended. Having reached this decision he went to his armory and pulled out all the ammunition he could hold, and a few spare hand guns, he went into his garage and set his cache in the passenger seat of his Charger and opened the garage door.

Climbing into the driver's seat he pulled out his radio, perhaps he could make contact with someone still alive. Opening the mic he said, "This is Michael Hunter code named 'The Ranger' is anyone out there alive, please respond. Over." Setting down the radio he backed out of his driveway, backing over a zombie as he went, and started towards the mansion. As he drove he periodically repeated the same statement over the radio, eventually someone may hear him

As he drove he tried to navigate down roads which had no one wandering around in them, he could run one down but if there is one others may not be far and speed bump could become a wall fast if he wasn't careful. In the midst of this he was fighting with himself to stay calm, if it wasn't for his military training he may have lost it in this nightmare.

The light was now fading, the sky darkening. Before long he would be driving with naught but his headlights, he hoped to God he was near the mansion and could make it before it was truly dark outside. And then, speak of the devil, there it was in front of him. The mansion.

He would have thought there would be a gate of some kind but it appeared to not be there, perhaps it had been forced open and in the growing darkness and the shadows cast by his headlights it was not where he could see it. He accelerated as he approached the main entrance and wrenched the wheel to the left spinning the car so that the rear faced the doors and the front away in case a quick run from here was needed in the future.

"Well, heres hoping that there are people alive here." He says to himself as he climbs out of his car, the door is welded shut on the car as it had been made to look like the General Lee from the show 'The Dukes of Hazard.' He then walked around the car and pulled a few magazines out of the passenger seat and put them in his pockets and took a third 9mm and tucked it in his waistband on the back of his pants. Then he took the radio and made one final call his voice shaking a little.

"This is former Master Sergeant Michael Hunter US Army, code name 'The Ranger'. Is anyone alive out there? Please respond, over."

"NOW I WANT YOU ALL ZOMBIES TO JUST SHUT THE HELL UP AND DIE!!" Lenna jerked the shotgun to the sky and let off a bang. A shell fell to the dirt. In front of her, a formation of zombies staggered. They raised their arms in unison, and ... convulsed into a sort of dance. An eyebrow rose like oil in water. In the midst of such gyrations, straight face and composure couldn't possibly stay intertwined.

"Ready, gentlemen?" A dull beat started up. Thud thud.

"Mrrr rawwwwwrrrrr..." They groaned in time with the thump of a heartbeat. The man in bright red tights cupped a hand to his ear, leaned forward, and repeated himself.

"I can't HEAR YOU!!" The zombies snapped to attention. Lenna gulped, and her shotgun dropped. She reached for the line of the strap over her shoulder and adjusted it. The sub-machinegun danced on its end. Just who was this fool in the middle of central park, and why... why was he... dressed like a showgirl crossed with Peter Pan?

"Just who the hell do you think you are?" Her lips moved with her face, accentuating every word. The man spun to face her like the hand of a clock; the record scratched. The music stopped.

He opened his mouth inhumanly wide. "WHAAAAAT? You do not know me? Doth thou not know of mine glory?"

"Nope, no clue." She propped a cigarette casually between her lips and lit. He cleared his throat and drew his chest out boldly.

"Private Dancer!"

"Dancing for money?"

"Erm, no."

"Do what you want me to do?"

He stared at her. "I don't follow yo--" A zombie's head exploded next to him in a shower of blood and brain matter. She hefted the bulk of the shotgun back over one shoulder. Smoke trailed from the barrel.

"You're my private dancer, bud. You know the lyrics to the song, right? If not, shut the hell up and go. I don't have time for this silly. There's a zombie apocalypse going on, and..." She jerked a minichainsaw out of the pack at her side and revved it with a vicious grin. "I'm Ash."

"Ah, erhem. Yes. GENTLEMEN! Let us show this child just how much of a thriller this night shall be!!" The music started up again. It was Michael Jackson's Thriller. Lenna let out an extended sigh as she rushed forward, slicing the head off another undead.

Somehow, she'd fallen into yet another cliche.

Raina was racing through the dorm hallway. The more she thought about it the more she knew the war room was the place to be. It was so secure there was no way there were any zombies. it would have food, weapons, it's own power and communication. She could find out what was really happening and why. She could live there for months if need be.

That's when she spotted Met's door and the sign on it. It was only a few doors down but there was a zombie in the way. "MET I'M COMING!" she yelled knowing it said to knock and cursing herself out when her screamed caused a few more zombies to come out of the wood work. "shit!" it wasn't like Raina to swear... but really it wasn't like the world to suddenly have zombies either.

She reared her tritan and slammed it into the nearest zombie showering it's blood all over her. She threw the zombie over the banister and down to the floor where it splattered and STILL tried to move. They weren't nearly as heavy as she thought they'd be.

Another rushed her from behind and a quick shrill note made the floor and icy rink sending it and one she hadn't spotted sliding right past her. She wrapped on the door as hard as she could "Met! they're effected by some powers! and we need to get to the warm room you wont last in your room!"

she'd look quite the site spattered in blood with a whimpering dog and a torn shirt. But she hadn't been bitten or scratched yet. "c-mon we gotta hurry!"

Mettaliar jumped when he heard Raina's voice shriek. The scream she held soon after filled his stomach with much pain. He approached the door slowly. He feared opening it for whatever horrors may be going on, yet felt the need to. He started to pull his mini-fridge away from the door before Raina's voice came around again, shouting out a plan in order to lead them all the way to the War Room. He quickly grabbed more things and threw them around the room and stopped himself before opening the door. If he had flung it open only to have a zombie attack him, it would be the end of Mettaliar forever. He needed to approach calmly. He closed his eyes and grabbed a hold of the handle. Turning it, he opened the door and his eyes as well. The sight of Raina came with mixed feelings. Her speech and well colored skin showed that she was not infected with anything. However, being covered in blood was also not a good thing either. Since it was too late to turn back, he chose to go with her.

"Alright. So you're plan is to head to the War Room? Hmmmm. Do you have anything to defend yourself with? I don't want you to be running around unprotected. I know you have you're power..." he said glancing down to see that the entire floor of the hallway was frozen over, probably due to the high-pitched scream Raina did, "... but if anything gets through, I want you to at least have a back up item to use. I'd feel bad if anything were to happen to you." Mettaliar smiled lightly at Raina, showing a little bit of care for the longtime fellow housemate. Suddenly, he heard the voice of the guy he had met that time in that alleyway. The Ranger. It sounded like he was sending out a distress call via radio. Mettaliar knew they had to act fast if they were to catch up with him.

"Yeah, let's hurry. That guy down there needs to know if anyone else is alive. We can use the War Room to try to contact him. C'mon, let's go." He knew that Raina had already said that, yet he felt the need to say it as well. Suddenly, remembering that he had asked Raina if she needed any weapons, Mettaliar quickly created a large hunting knife and handed it to Raina. "Here, take this. It's not much, but better than using your bare fists if anything else." He quickly ran along towards where the War Room would be and fast. His focus was on his surroundings, making sure nothing else could attack them.

"Oh... oh god, Thor. No. That's..." Shin covered his mouth to hold back the retching that he knew was inevitable. His best friend the Siberian Husky... or what was left of him, bared fangs. They'd come so fast, in the darkness of the hall. He hadn't had time to react.

Thor had. He'd burst into the crowd of grays, fangs tearing, paws kicking out... he'd done his best to defend Shin, but doggy bites don't do much to phase the walking undead. Their teeth had sunk into his collar. He'd let out a heartwrenching YELP! ... And then he was gone underneath the crowd.

Now his entrails hung out by his back paws, and the left side of his face was missing flesh. Blood matted the fur on his chest, and clumps of skin hung off the nape of his neck in the vicious aftermath of a bite. A bark pierced the air of the hallway. In the shadows, Shin could still see the light red of his eyes.

"Oh god..." He repeated as he staggered, hand trailing the side of the wall. The carpet underfoot felt like sandpaper. With every step, he felt his soles grinding away. Could he make it out? Would he have to... fight. He'd seen enough survival horror games, played enough Resident Evil, watched enough Dawn of the Dead... to realize the dead were rising, and the only solution was... "Death."

A girlish shriek rang through the air. Shin's head spun towards its source. In a bitter world, he would have seen his face reflected in the hallway mirror. Instead, he saw the hallway leading down towards the dormitories. His feet reacted before his mind. He barreled down the hallway, tears streaming from his eyes!!

"Anyooooooooooooooooone!" He wailed. "I'm being chased by my best friend's doggy, and..." He tripped over a corpse Raina had left, and landed a meter in front of her form. He blinked. "R-raina? What's with the--" Bloodied paws sailed over his back as Thor leaped at the mer-girl. For a moment, he hung in the air over Shin, and things moved in slow motion.

Then his paws hit the floor of the hallway in a clatter of claw on wood. Shin struggled to his feet, on one knee now as his hand stretched out to call... a fleck of red light in the shadows. A triangle shuriken hit the back of Thor's head in an explosion of red and green. The dog fell to the floor.

"I think... that got him." Shin panted. He got to his feet.

Lenna cut across the sidewalk, whipping the SMG up to strafe as she passed. Zombies reeled as she peppered them, flinching back and forth with each shot. She slid into the grass and her head turned. The heft of her shotgun snapped up. Two zombies exploded on the receiving end.

"Like poetry in motion, dear. You dance well." Private Dancer chuckled as he hopped into his golf cart. Lenna turned to mow down another line of his zombie horde. Her blue bag sailed around her hip as she moved. Her hair caught up in the wind.

"Not getting away that easily!!" Her shotgun fell to the ground, empty. A hand darted through blue. A flash of something silver, a small ring fell to the floor. "TAKE THIS!!!"

Private Dancer's golf cart burst into the air, tumbled, as a grenade went off below. It crashed to the crowd in a crumple of metal and plastic and bone. Lenna flicked the cigarette to the pavement and lifted her shotgun back up to reload. She slid a few bullets in place quickly as more zombies staggered in on all sides.

She bit her lip. "... there. Now die, mothereffers." Pow! She shot the nearest zombie over her shoulder with the gun. Then the next one. Then the next. She popped the gun open in motion, body shifting to turn into the shot. A bullet hung in slow-time, and she slammed it down through the air into place. Her other hand brought up the SMG and eviscerated a line of three.

With a sigh, she stalked over to the battered body of Private Dancer. She nudged it with her boot. A hand gripped leather. She shook her head. "You still alive?"

"-ainz.... buh buh buh... rainz...."

"Buh buh buh, drains?" She repeated, tugging a pistol from the holster on her side and pressing it against Private Dancer's head. "Speak right or the grammar police will--" The trigger depressed kaboom. Lenna smiled. "Make you."

She tucked the shotgun and SMG away in the blue bag, and let it ride at her hip as she walked. The whole of Central Park staggered with them, like a blood-smeared version of Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte, by Seurat. A zombie sat by the lake, tapping his cane, while two women zombies gossiped under the shade of a tree, and a zombie dog rooted through trash. Everywhere Lenna looked, there were zombies. ZOMBIES! ZOMBIES!!! Even if they weren't zombies at all. A half hour later when she stepped out of central park, her death count had risen somewhere into the double digits... she hopped into an abandoned cab and tore towards wherever wheels took her. Swerving through highways and byways, along the streets, she finally halted the car, and hopped out next to a 1969 Dodge Charger. She glanced at the mansion gates, shouldered her shotgun, and shook her head.

There were more zombies to kill. She wouldn't stop until they were all dead.

As no response came yet over the radio he slid it into a harness on his right leg and drew his pistol from under his left arm. He raised the gun, clicking on the light mounted under the barrel, and stepped into the mansion. He didn't want to stay long in a an area with so many entrances, a large area was great but a large area with one or two entrances was better.

Not long after entering he could have sworn he heard a scream from somewhere in the building but it's location could not be discerned. He made a judgment call on what he thought the best possibility of where it came from was and began to head that way. Yet, before he could make it far a pair of zombies entered the entrance hall and came barreling at him. Who would have thought zombies could move so fast! He wondered as he dove away from the zombies firing a shot into the back of one of their heads dropping it instantly. As he slammed back first into the ground the other turned and jumped at him, the Ranger pulled up a leg and caught the zombie with his foot. Kicking the zombie away he fired two shots, the first landing in the zombie's chest the second in the skull.

He stood up, glad he wasn't bitten. He was not sure if that would be bad or not but he had been told by friends who played games and saw horror movies that the bite or scratch from one would infect you. This, he wanted to avoid at all costs.

"Now to find where that scream came from, someone may need help."

He looked around the hall and saw no zombies, but a look back reveled a car pulling up next to his. Perhaps another survivor, since I doubt the zombies can drive. Maybe they can but I doubt it. He walked back toward the entrance as he walked he held his pistol in his left hand ,scanning the light around the area, and in his right he drew out his radio. He tried again to reach other survivors of this apocalypse.

"This is former Master Sergeant Michael Hunter US Army, code name 'The Ranger'. Is anyone alive out there? Please respond, over."

Following this he quickly switched which hands held what, leaving his gun in his right and radio in his left. He would rather his strong arm hold the firearm. And then reaching the doors he stepped out and cast the light on the brown haired girl with the shotgun.

"Howdy there, normally I would be more cordial but under present circumstances that is ill advised. You can call me The Ranger for the time being. And, you are?"

As he very quickly spoke this statement he scanned the area, as far as he could tell the area was temporarily safe, but how long that woould last was unknow.

Walking. Yes, she loved long, quiet walks when everything that was on her mind was cleared away and all she could feel was tranquility. The landscape of the Mansion Grounds was indeed beautiful. She had not realized it until a few days before when she departed the familiar area around the mansion. She had spent most of her day just sitting around and relaxing. Everything going on in her life started to tire her out and sometimes she needed to take a break from anything.

The sun had almost disappeared behind the horizon. With a sigh, she realized she needed to leave. She wasn’t in the mood for search parties being sent after her after being away from the mansion the whole day.

“Mrrrrr.”

What the-? Alexandra’s sky blue eyes shifted to the place the sound was coming. She suddenly stopped her movements, all her senses on alert. That didn’t sound normal. So maybe it was a good idea to climb a tree after all, she thought as her eyes searched for who or what did that awful sound.

The figure of a pale, skinny boy appeared around a tree. Her eyebrow rose. Well, pale, skinny boys weren’t that much of a surprise. His clumpish walk was that grabbed her attention. His head tilted to the side as he kept making that awful sound. Even from her spot, she could see his mouth opened widely, hanging as if there were no muscles to hold it shut. Some dark liquid was dripping from his mouth and as he further approached she could finally see something far more unusual. His left arm was half gone. Alexandra shuddered in pure disgust. What the hell is that?

Those movements, the bloody look it all resembled some stupid horror movies. But could that even be possible? That boy looked like a zombie? Her foot slightly slipped, making a slight sound. Her eyes shifted back to the zombie-looking guy. He was looking directly at her, his mouth opening more if that was even possible. Completely white eyes were starring at her. Her nostrils flared as another wave of disgust washed over her. A few seconds later and the supposed zombie was burrowed in the ground till chest level.

Her eyes checked the area waiting to see if there were others to follow. She saw none. Sighing, she jumped from the tree, and walked over to the entrapped zombie, careful to be out of his reach. Not that he could do much with that half an arm anyway. “Well, aren’t you a pretty one?” she spoke as she walked around him. Now getting to see him better, she also noticed the rather large chunk of flesh missing from his back. “Lovely. Just lovely.”

The zombie guy continued to hiss at her, his eyes now a pitch black, the leftover of his arm trying to reach out for her. Alexandra began to wonder if this was some awful nightmare or such. I mean, zombies? But if this was a zombie… Her eyes trailed off to the path he had used to get there. It leaded to the mansion… A zombie attack on the mansion? No, it was just a nightmare, how could zombies attack a mansion. And if this one escaped… maybe there were more waiting at the mansion. Maybe everyone was a zombie by now. That sucks.

Her eyes turned to the hissing guy, a frown on her face. “Would you just shut the hell up?” she said looking around. “Let’s see, how am I supposed to kill you?” A hand went to her chin as she spotted some metal indicators pointing the way to the mansion. “Well, you know, movies say something about… cutting off heads, right?”

Her eyes were glowing a light blue as she motioned the metal molecules of the indicator to come to her. With slight movements of her hand, she forged a blade, a rather large and impressive blade. A quiet smile appeared on her face as she admired the piece of work. Eyes went down as she pursed her lips together. “Not that I don’t like you but… you make way too much noise.” she said. Smile faded away and with a swift move, he was beheaded. The hissing sound stopped as the head fell to the side, eyes still wide opened, mouth hanging to the side. Gross. Good thing she did this thing before, she thought as she stepped away from the entrapped headless body so the blood wouldn’t get to her clothes.

“I guess they were right.” she shrugged, then looked around. Okay, so if they were coming from the mansion, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to head that way. Yeah, she’d go around trough the woods and get as far away as possible from the mansion. Fighting zombies wasn’t her idea of being a spy and certainly Slate didn’t pay her enough to stick in the mansion during such a crisis. Not like anyone could pay her enough to do that anyway.

Alexandra preferred to walk rather than run, that way she wouldn’t get tired and she wouldn’t make that much of a noise. Besides, these things weren’t the stealthy type either so she had better chances for getting out when she was the hunter rather than the prey. The walk to the forested area that leaded to the gates was relatively short and eventless. Yes, she had probably thought this one good.

However, it did surprise her when she reached the gates. Well, at least where the gates were supposed to be anyway. A figure was standing there, he was speaking something in his radio but she couldn’t pick up what he said. A frown appeared on her face as she held her blade tight in her hand. Errr, if he was speaking into his radio then he wouldn’t be a zombie right? The one she just killed couldn’t speak, just hissed and mrrr-ed a little too much for her to like. And if he was the one attacking the mansion it wasn’t like he was transmitting commands to his radio. Last time she checked, zombies didn’t carry radios around. And then the other it came into view as the man spoke once again. This time a female. Hmmm.

Stopping a few feet away from them, blade tight in one hand, Alexandra placed the other on her hip with a questioning look. Not that they could see it in the darkness. Which reminded her. Why the heck were all the mansion lights out? Her concern grew stronger and stronger. “And who the heck are you supposed to be?” she asked, her tone certainly not a kind one. Hell, if this was zombie apocalypse coming it wasn’t like anyone cared if she was talking nice. She wasn’t standing with a blade in her hand to greet people.

Howdy, she repeated, and turned the word in her mind. He was a little under 6 foot, brown eyes, brown hair, and built like a soldier. From the accent, she judged he was of Southern origin, and from the way he was dressed and referring to himself as a sergeant... well, he must be a sergeant, hmm? She tilted her head at him, resting the gun on one shoulder as she slung a hand on her hip. What name would she go with today?

"Anya." Her tongue clicked. "Anya Minogue. And judging by the state of things, you're the best ally I've got. These zombies came out of nowhere, rampaging around central park. Like some scene from Dawn of the Dead. It was a good thing I had my handy dandy... shotgun." The metal of the gun dropped to her side. She gripped the side of the barrel, and braced it against the front of her arm. Another woman approached them, and Lenna's head snapped to attention.

“And who the heck are you supposed to be?”

"Your best friends right now, dear." Lenna replied with a ferocious grin. "I see you've got a sword. Either of you in the mood for an upgrade in your weaponry?"

She set the bag down on the ground, exposing the minichainsaw and the submachine gun. Lenna spread her arms in a bow. "By all means."

Raina took the knife feeling relief wash over her seeing that Met was ok. She pulled up the tritant "Just this." she said pushing a button and making the weapon that was pen sized extend to sword size. It was already covered with zombie blood from earlier. "Is this really happening? Like, really happening?" she asked surveying the area. "forget it, we'll talk about it in the war room. I hope it hasn't been compromised."
She turned to lead the way when everything suddenly got really slow and all she could see was an extremely rabid zombie dog leaping at her in mid air. The pup looked familiar. Wasn't that... Thor?

Before she could blink the dog hit the ground unmoving and her eyes looked up to see "Shin!" she had to quickly blink tears of relief away. The last thing she needed was to go fish. Zombie's probably loved fish. "Im so glad you're alright." she reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "I'm sorry about Thor." she looked down at the body. "I guess it can infect animals too." Star whined in her shirt as if listening.

"It sounds like there's others gathering outside... but Met and I are heading to the war room. We can survive there and get weapons there, it's got it's own power and it's getting dark out here fast. If we want to help the others I think we need to go there first." she explained as she started to run leading the way.

"They still try to move even if we use our powers on them." she explained from her experience earlier. "They- whoa!" she dodged right as a zombie came at her from the left. She let out a note and blasted the thing in the face with ice with enough force to push it over the railing. It landed a few floors below and still twitched trying to get up. "As I was saying..." she said skidding around a corner. "I think we gotta cut the heads off. That's what they do in movies right?"

Another corner and the war room door was in view. Of course, it was behind about 20 zombie teens that all just noticed the arrival of three mutants and a puppy. "Ah shit."

"Anya..." He repeated the name, committing it to memory. Then he noted that she was armed with a shotgun, which is good it means they can defend themselves. Yet, before he could say anything else a second person approached, he quickly moved his gun to face the new girl thereby illuminating her with the light attached to it.

"And who the heck are you supposed to be?

He said nothing at first in response, since she was speaking he assumed she was not a zombie. And following Anya's reply he merely nodded and then make a quick look around the area his light illuminating a small area around them.

"I see you've got a sword. Either of you in the mood for an upgrade in your weaponry?"

He watched as she laid out her arsenal, "Not bad, but I prefer my own. If for no other reason than I maintain them." Following this statement he approached the rear of his car and pulled the key out of his jacket pocket. Sliding the key into a lock he poped the trunk open, inside of which was a large aluminum attaché case. He snapped the two clamps off and opened it. Inside of the case was a Smith and Wesson Model 500 magnum revolver, a Sig 556, and an assortment of accessories (i.e. different scopes, grips, and stocks) as well as a few flash bangs.

He then pulls one of his 9mm's out from its holster under his right arm and switches it out with the S&W 500. "This gun is a .50 caliber magnum. Pretty much a zombie's head will explode on impact." Following that he pulls out the Sig, attaches a red dot scope and and a strap, then slings it across his back where he could reach back with his right hand and slide it across to his chest to fire.

"It pays to have been a special operator in the military."

Mettaliar smiled when Raina held up her tritant. He was pleased to know that at the very least she had even more options to protect herself. Mettaliar knew that Raina's power was great, yet the number of the apparent undead was enough to warrent extra protection. Mettaliar would feel horrible if anything were to happen to anyone he met up with. He had the tendency to blame himself for more than he was actually to blame.

Suddenly, a noise came from behind them. At the immediate turn around, Mettaliar began to unsheath his sword, his short sword shaped as a boomarang with one part replaced with a blade. Before he realized what was going on, though, a dog fell at his feet. In shock, he jumped back, falling over the still somewhat frozen hallway floor. He flew back and landed on his back. In fear he rolled back and saw the dog remain where it landed, motionless. Mettaliar sighed and shook his head. Dammit. Even dogs can be infected? Glad I don't have a pet that I would potentially have to kill. Can't say the same for that other guy though. Poor bastard.

Mettaliar got up as Raina and the other guy, apparently named Shin, began to talk about the plan to the War Room. Seems like they were all aware that there were more outside. All Mettaliar hoped for was that the War Room had a radio that could possibly get them in touch with the survivors outside. It was too dangerous to go out and try to save them, yet he felt it necessary to try and at least let them know where to go and not wander into a death trap. Mettaliar shook his head at the thought as they began to move out towards the War Room.

After dodging a few stray zombies they turned the corner to the War Room. While the sight should've brought relief to the three teens, the realization that the room was practically guarded by zombies. With a silent flail of obscenities, Mettaliar stopped dead in his tracks. Reaching for his staff, he held it out in front of him and walked forward slightly in front of the other two. He didn't mean to seem so willing to take the lead, he just felt compelled to act first. He waited for the others to discuss how to handle it while he stood still and kept his staff out in front and stared at the horde, waiting for the next move.

"I know..." Shin muttered to Raina, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes and pushing to his feet. He took in a ragged breath and glanced back at the dog. He said his final words, and turned to follow them towards the war room, heart beating heavy in his chest. He wished he could have said more, done more for the dog... he really hadn't been the best owner Sam could have hoped for, had he? Thoughts racked the back of his mind as they fought back zombies on their way. He whirled shards around a zombie's neckline like a buzzsaw, and brought them in quick to decapitate. Another zombie staggered onto the scene. He kicked it back and slashed it across the neck. The whole battle turned into a bloody blur, and before he knew it, they were at the War Room.

And there was a horde. Shin's eyes widened as ten zombies jerked their way across the hallway towards his group. And the smell... something red and hot lurched in the back of his throat, but he fought it back with a grimace.

"They really stink, huh... well, let's get this over with. Slice and dice... plan i'm used to... now..." He clenched his fist and a trio of three-inch shards sprang up in the air in front of him. They hung there waiting for his orders, red, blue, yellow. Primary colors of combat.

And death. In a flash, they shot out to slice at the neck of one of the zombies as it launched itself into the air!! Its head tore off in an upward spiral of viscera. A knife-line of blood flew across Shin's cheek. He kicked another zombie back into the group, and straight into a triangle hovering behind its head at neck-level.

*SLEESH!*

A head flopped to the floor and bounced twice. Its sightless eyes stared up at Shin's back as more zombies fell to the floor. An arm jerked inwards into a knee to the chest that sent it backwards, buckling into a spear.