Dead Or Alive Cyoa

[tbone110]

Here we go, I'm doing to commerate myself as a true member of this site. I create a new cyoa every time I arrive at a new cyber abode and this place is no exception so let's get the ball rolling....


John awakes this morning believing it will be the same as every other day. He slams his fist down on his alarm clock, which reads 5 A.M. "Another day, another dollar." He tells himself as he has done time and again over the years of living in this small town. He climbs out of bed with bitter reluctance, much preferring to go back to sleep instead of enduring another day of endless monotony.

Ugh, I've really got to go somewhere with my life. This job is going to kill me before old age does. After changing into his usual outfit of a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of Nike running shoes, he preps himself for his morning routine. On most days, this would consist of John jogging to the convience store down the block where he would purchase a cup of coffee and read the newspaper. Over the next hour, he'd greet the usual early birds like himself and be on his way when six o'clock rolled around.

Not on this day however. His routine is shattered upon his exiting his apartment. All the tenants of the building are in an uproar about something, shouting and shoving past each other as though the world is ending. "Whoa, what's the deal, Barnes?" John asks his middle-aged neighbor as he attempts to run by. "Didn't you hear?! The entire town's rioting!" He replies frantically, making his way back into his room. He slams his door shut and latches the dead bolt shortly after in an effort to secure in possessions.

A riot?! The one day I decide not to watch the news.... Little does John know that this is far from the truth. He learns this the hard way soon after he retreats into his room, where he looks out the window to confirm his neighbor's story. All seems silent in the small town of Richland, Texas. Its population of 22,000 people appear to be slumbering peacefully, there are no fires in the street nor are there people destroying public property to satisfy destructive urges.

But John is educated in the ways of subtlety, this could very well be a silent riot at the moment. All it needs is the proper trigger for everything to go to hell. It would seem that trigger has been tripped as someone shouts for help from out in the hallway.

John rushes to see what all the excitement is. He comes to find that one of the tenants has tackled Barnes and is attempting to bite into his throat. What the hell? I guess all those rumors about cannibals were true....

John has litle time to act if he would like to save his neighbor.

Health: 100%
Inventory: Nothing
Entourage: Nobody

A) Assist Barnes bare handed, he might succumb to death if John takes time to search for a weapon

B) Search for a weapon to use, fisticuffs is not the best idea when engaging a cannibal

C) Call for help, John would have a better chance with another body assisting him

D) Leave Barnes to his fate, John needs to look out for number one

[Roger]

B

[Soyez [BEN]]

I'd say B, too.

[Slayer_22]

B

[Helena Beaumanoir]

I'd say D, but that would be malicious. ;D

No, B as well.

[tbone110]

John wastes no time in searching for a weapon, knowing that he would stand no chance without one. He fumbles around in his living room closet until his hand wraps around a wooden baseball bat, an object that he had kept around for self-defense in the event of a burglar. I knew it was a stroke of brilliance to keep this around. Good thing I never listened to my ex...

He immediately rushes to Barnes' aid, beginning his assault on the rabid tenant with reckless abandon. John delivers a brutal strike upside his head that echoes throughout the narrow hallway of the second floor, blood splattering onto the drab, brown walls. "He's not done yet!" Barnes shouts past gnashing teeth.

"One more should do it, cover your eyes!" John warns before bringing the bat down upon the cannibal's cranium, caving the rear of his skull in. Blood spouts forth all over Barnes, but he is completely unharmed otherwise. "Watch yourself old man, I might not be around next time." John japes as he pulls his neighbor to his feet. "That bastard caught me by surprise, that's all. But why the hell did Stan suddenly decide to have me for dinner?!" Barnes asks the question that is on everyone's mind in the vicinity.

"The last time I saw him, he was complaining about a fever and a sore throat. He said it felt as if he were dying." John thinks out loud as he overturns Stan's corpse, an expression of pure horror etch upon his face. Poor bastard, he wasn't much older than myself. Whatever the hell is going on, it doesn't disrciminate between age, sex, or race.

The excitement eventually dies down as all the residents reluctantly return to their apartments, leaving only John standing in the hallway by his lonesome. "This is going to be one hell of a day..." John mutters ominously to himself, his mind racing through several different scenarios as the city continues to descend into chaos.


A heavy pounding at the door awakens John with a start, he had dozed off after deciding to call in sick for the day. The television is currently stationed on a newscast broadcasting live from within the inner city, where all hell has broken loose. Citizens are scrambling in the streets as the dead begin to revive with an insatiable appetite for human flesh.

John had missed all of this, including a diagram displaying the projected progress of the undead invasion. His dwelling had fallen within this evergrowing diameter nearly an hour ago.

"One second, I'm coming! Christ, can't people learn a little patience?!" John grumbles while making his way toward the front door. He glances out the peephole to see Barnes slobbering on himself, adorning the same twisted expression that Stan had previously.

"What the fuck?! Not you too, Barnes!" John backs away from the door, seeking out his favored melee weapon. Once he has found the bat again, John peers outside into the hall once more. Barnes is nowhere to be seen, but he can still be heard pounding on various other doors. Shit, if Barnes has lost it, there's no telling how many others it's gotten to. I can't stay here any longer, I'd merely be awaiting the inevitable. Maybe I'd better check on Cynthia...

Cynthia Velázquez resides on the same floor as John, though he wonders if she is even aware of his existence at times. She is an upcoming actress seeking to make a name for herself at the local television station. John had admired her from afar for months now, never able to work up the nerve to ask her out.

She'd never go for a guy like me. He had told himself, unintentionally snuffing out his own confidence. They would cross paths several times a week, upon which everytime Cynthia would regard John with an uninterested greeting.

John debates the issue no further, now is a time for action. He retrieves a duffel bag from the top of his bedroom closet and begins filling it with necessary supplies. A first aid kit from the restroom, canned foods along with the proper tool to open them, a crowbar should anything happen to his bat, and various other objects.

John raps his knuckles against the bat as he works up the courage to venture forth into the hallway. "Come on, you can do this. It's just straight out there and to the right, Cynthia's apartment is at the end of the hall." John continuously speaks to himself for the next few minutes, which serves to bolster his faltering self-confidence. All right, it's now or never, John. Do it!

He charges forth, practically knocking the door off its hinges in his stupor. Barnes reacts quickly to his sudden appearance, seeking to make John his next prospective meal. "I don't have time for you now. Sorry about this..." He swings for the fences as Barnes draws near, blasting his neighbor's head to the side with a sickening crack. His entire body goes limp, allowing John to pass. I'm sorry, Barnes. You deserved better than that.

Once arriving at apartment number 206, Cynthia's abode, John cracks the door while calling, "Cynthia? Are you in here?" His reply is sounds of struggle from a rear room, which is out of view at the moment. Damn, I hope she's okay.

Health: 100%
Inventory: Baseball bat, Duffel bag of supplies
Entourage: Nobody

A) Head inside and investigate the sounds, Cynthia may be in danger, John can't afford to waste anytime

B) Wait a moment longer, perhaps Cynthia hasn't had time to reply yet

C) Call out again, maybe she didn't hear John previously

D) Forget her, John needs to save his own skin and leave the building

[melanie]

A.

[Soyez [BEN]]

Yeah, A. o;o

[Roger teh Guest]

I'ma go A.

[tbone110]

No time to be cautious, she might be in danger. Gingerly, John creeps into Cynthia's apartment in search of the actress. "Cynthia? It's John Dillon from down the hall, I'm here to see if you're okay." Once inside the sparsely decorated living room, John's voice carries all the way to where he can hear the struggling.

"John?! Help me, I'm in here!" A sweet voice calls back, the voice of Cynthia. "I'm coming!" He eagerly sprints through the apartment until reaching her bedroom, where she has a table lamp shoved into the jaws of yet another hungry zombie. "Hold on Cynthia, I've got this. Just cover your eyes." John attempts a confident voice in order to impress her, though she would just prefer that he hurry up. "Hyah!" He shouts as he clubs the zombie on the rear of its knee, which buckles from the impact.

"Get behind me." John waits momentarily for her to drop the lamp and get away from the staggered assailant. Once she has done so, he finishes it off with a sick crack across its face. He kicks the body to check if it is dead, the only motion it makes is to shudder once his foot touches it.

(By the way, here are pictures of Cynthia:






"Are you okay? Were you bitten or anything?" He asks Cynthia, praying within his head that she is fine. "I-I'm okay, the most he did was grab me before I jammed the lamp into his mouth. Why did he try to bite me?!" She asks frantically, choking back tears from the tramautic experience. "I wish I knew but I honestly can't tell you. All I do know is that the entire city's going to hell and we have to get out of here." John calmly explains.

"A-all right. How'd you know I was in trouble anyway?" Cynthia questions after quelled her panic. "I didn't, I just wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay. I was about to hightail it out of here when I saw your aparment door wide open." He attempts to play it off by acting nonchalant, as though he does this kind of thing everyday.

"Well thanks. I don't want to think about what he would have done if you hadn't showed up." Cynthia bats her eyelashes at John, rewarding him with a peck on the cheek for his trouble. Look at that, she finally ackowledges my existence after I save her life. Life is cruel sometimes...

"So how do you plan on getting us out of here? Do you have a car?" She stands by nervously in the apartment, eager to be gone already. "I wish, I can't afford a car on my paycheck. We'll have to go on foot, we should be fine as long as we're careful. Take this, you'll need a weapon." John withdraws the crowbar from his bag and gives it to Cynthia.

"Okay, if you say so. I just want to be gone from here." Her voice quivers while speaking, prompting John to begin to their departure. "Let's go then, there's nothing else for us here. I'll take the lead." Glancing into the hall to make sure it is empty, he escorts the Latina out of the building without any interference.

They stand at a crossroads after emerging from the apartment complex, having stepped outside for the first time today. Fire rages in the distance as a result of the masses panicikng, bodies line the sidewalk, and cars clutter the road, effectively blocking vehicular transport anyway.

"Where do we go now? If the rest of the city is like this, there isn't anywhere that's safe." Once again, Cynthia begins to whip herself into a frenzy, requiring John to calm her down. "Yes there is. We can head to quite a few places if you'll just stay calm, Cynthia. We can either head for the police station, they're probably accepting refugees, or we could go to the supermarket, the food would allow us to barricade ourselves for a good while. Do you have any suggestions?" John attempts to include her in the decision.

"The Community Center would be a good place hole up in, I bet there are people there right now." She suggests, apparently happy that he asked her opinion. "All right, let's decide on one of those places." They debate it for several minutes before choosing their destination....

Health: 100%
Inventory: Baseball bat, Duffel bag of supplies

Entourage:
Cynthia Velázquez: 98% (Nervous), Crowbar

Relations: (This is where any romance will be tracked if is applicable)
Cynthia: 30% Acquaintance

A) Head for the police station, they might be accepting refugees as John said plus they're bound to have weapons

B) Make their way to the supermarket, food is not yet a concern, but it would better if they found a decent supply now

C) Do as Cynthia suggests and find the Community Center, a large building such as that would offer protection, but it might have to cleared out first

D) Attempt to locate a working vehicle, one of the cars is bound to work but time is of the essence, the streets might not be clear for long

E) Ask Cynthia how she is doing, it might be best to calm her down before her nervousness gets the better of her at this moment


Also, I'll be taking any character requests if you have them now.

[Soyez [BEN]]

Uhhh, C, I guess. D:

[Roger Teh Schizo Stone]

E.

[tbone110]

I'll combine the choices this time seeing I have still only have two votes....

While they are conversing, John can't help but notice how jittery Cynthia has become. "Are you all right? You seem really nervous." John asks of her. "W-well, aren't you? I mean we're surrounded by people seeking to eat one another's flesh! On top of that, I can kiss my career goodbye seeing as the studio manager is probably dead..." She is starting to become quite hysterical, which prompts John to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Of course I'm nervous, but I realize it won't do us any good to fret about what's already happening. The only thing we can do is press forward and survive until we find help. Now look me in the eye and tell me you believe we'll survive." He lifts her chin gently with his left hand, gazing deeply into her soft, brown eyes. "I-I believe it. Wow, when did you become so thoughtful and confident?" She jokes yet wonders how he eluded her attention all these years.

"I guess it just took a kick in the ass for me to get it in gear. Now come on, the Community Center isn't going find itself. I'll lead the way, you just stay close, all right?" He gives her a confident smile which serves to reenergize her. "All right. John, I just want to say thank you." She then gives him a quick peck on the cheek before pulling away, her faced flushed with color. Ah hell yeah!


The trek to the Community Center is one fraught with perils, more than once John and Cynthia were nearly ambushed by a roving band of undead. "There it is, our destination. Now what say we head on inside and make ourselves at home?" John quips as they near the slightly omnious building.

"John, wait a second. I have a bad feeling about this, maybe this wasn't such a good idea." She makes her reservations obvious. "That's the nervousness speaking again, we're so close we might as well head inside. Now come on, we don't have all day." As if to coincide with him, a bolt from the blue strikes in the distance, bringing along with it a heavy gust of wind. Okay, I'll have to admit that was a bit freaky...

The Community Center stands two stories tall and has a pair of double glass doors that serve as the entrance. Upon entering them, John and Cynthia can see that other people have clearly been here already. "See? You were right, people have taken shelter in here. Let's go ahead and find them so we're not alone." He says. "Not that that's a bad thing." She flirts rather heavily with the concrete finisher, yet she receives no complaints.

They emerge in the cafeteria after walking forward a ways, where they find a meager gathering of no more than three people, all of whom appear to be from completely differing backgrounds. "Hello?" John warns them of their presence to avoid any surprises. "Oh, hi! Tim look, people!" One of them exclaims upon hearing John.

The person who first saw them is a young woman with an eccentric attitude, she greets them with an adoration of handshakes and hugs. "Don't smother them Alex, let 'em settle in first." An elderly man waves her off with his free hand, his other is in possession of a cane for his bum leg. "I'm sorry about that, she means well but she's young. You know how it goes, teenagers are still kids on the inside. It's been hell getting her to sit still this entire time." He chuckles while leading them to an empty table, where they gladly take a seat.

"So you two decided to shack up here as well, huh? It's a good thing you got here, we were just about to chain up the doors. In fact, that's where Alex has gone. She and Mark are doing just that. You heard my name already, care to share your own?" Tim asks now that the ice has been broken. "I'm John Dillon. Nice to meet ya, Tim." He shakes the old man's hand, noting that he has a very firm grip. "Cynthia Velazquez, a pleasure." The two of them shake as well, Tim must then solemnly tell them of their situation.

"It pains me to say this, but we're not completely safe here. We haven't cleared out a few of the side wings yet, there's still some of those rabid bastards roaming about. I can't do much with my bad leg, but Alex and Mark are going to take care of the east section of the building, I'd like you two to patrol the west wing." Tim asks rather regrettably. Of course there's a stipulation, there always is. I should've seen it coming.

"Bu-" Cynthia begins to object yet John silences her. "We'll get right on it. Just leave it to us." He pulls the dismayed actress toward the west exit of the cafeteria where their patrol will begin. "John?! How could you volunteer us like that?" She snaps. "Because they'll throw us out on the street if we don't do our part. Besides, do you want to send a crippled old man to do this job?" He points to Tim, causing Cynthia to hide her guilty face.

"When you put it that way...fine." She caves albeit grudingly. "Then off we go. Stay close just like before, we have no way of knowing how many of those fuckers are still around." John instructs, taking the lead yet again.

The west part of the building houses the basketball court and swimming pool on the bottom floor, they check out the ball court first. "It's too quiet in here, we haven't seen anything yet." John points out upon entering the dimly lit court, Cynthia right on his tail.

To stifle his worries, a thump echoes from under the bleachers against the far wall. "Did you hear that John?" Cynthia peeps, clutching her crowbar tightly. "Yeah, I guess it was too good to last." Before John can speak again, the ambush happens.

A zombie lunges out from behind them, it was obscured by a ball rack before as it feasted on an unlucky soul. It takes Cynthia to the ground, whose scream sends a chill up John's spine. He attempts to spin around but another ghoul assaults him, this one having been hidden by the poor lighting. "Bastards!" John grunts as he shoves the baseball bat into his assailant's mouth, its teeth scratching the wood.

John forces it back with a heavy shove, allowing him enough time to mount an offensive. The zombie's head snaps to the side from the first swing, its body going limp after the second. Cynthia is still on the ground, the crowbar barely holding the zombie at bay. Her pleads for assistance attract three more undead within the large court, each of them approaching with palpable hunger. Fuck, what to do?! If I help Cynthia, these assholes might attack from behind. But if I don't, she'll surely perish...

Health: 97%
Inventory: Baseball bat, Duffel bag of supplies

Entourage:
Cynthia Velázquez: 93%, Crowbar

Relations:
Cynthia: 40% Friend

A) Assist Cynthia anyway, she stands no chance against the zombie in her current position

B) Search the area for another weapon, perhaps there is something John can use against the other three undead, Cynthia will have to wait

C) Leave the basketball court, Cynthia is doomed anyway but John needs to look out for the MVP