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Billy Simpson

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This will be the start of a group of short stories I'll be writing based off what character I'm currently using in PZ. I'll try to stay as true to the play through as possible, but some things will probably change. Enjoy.

Chapter I: The Beginning

Day 1

I hate myself. I always have. I've always hated myself for being such a lowlife loser. For draining my parents of their money until their divorce and mother's eventual death. For managing to lose my lousy job at Spiffos that I've had since I was 17 and my father made me get a job to earn money for my games. I've had that job for 10 years off and on, and each time after quitting I'd come back to my boss a month or two later begging for another second chance, despite the fact that every time I quit I said I'd never come back. By the time the weird news stories began that I watched on my neighbors TV through my kitchen window, it was too late to get a job and earn enough money to stock up on food. I didn't even have my games to sell this time, seeing as I sold them about a six months ago to pay for a loan that I never payed off. Good thing the IRS tax season never came. I was just stuck in my lousy house that I rented for more than I could afford, with a few bananas and a book my dad got me three years ago for my birthday called, Trapping for Beginners. I don't even know why he got that for me, I just know he did. I spent the whole day reading that god awful book and eating my precious supply of bananas. Turns out trapping is extremely boring to read about. I tried to go asleep after the sun set, but I kept hearing moans outside my window. I went to the grimy bathroom and looked out the window over to my other neighbors house. The window was broken, and there where infected people everywhere. I closed the curtains to all my windows, turned off all my lights, and locked my front door before going to sleep.

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The story starts off good, BUT i do not like the way the zombies are suddenly appearing. I like stories where they take their time on explaining the zombies, Justifying an isolated outbreak in whatever town. But other than that, good job! Writing was pretty good on this IMO.

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Chapter II: The Middle

Day 2

I woke up cold. So cold. It was unusual given the time of year, but the fact still remained that my house was quit chilly. If only I had a jacket. But I didn't have a jacket, I was just stuck with my tank top. I opened the curtains to see if it was safe, and was greeted by a steady drizzle of rain. I checked to see if the coast was clear, and stepped outside. The only food I had left was some sandwich cheese with an expiration date of three weeks ago. I went to the mailbox, and found a newspaper, some women's fashion magazine, and Hunting: The Magazine. Looks like my mail and that of the neighbors had been switched again. This happened often, but right now, I didn't care-I had something to read. I hated reading, but when your stuck in a house with nothing to do, you get bored. Very Bored. I looked up for the mailbox after closing the lid and saw an infected across the street. Her name used to be Lynda, with a Y, and she was the most annoying of my neighbors. She had her yard all neat and tidy and had a perfect row of flowers. One night my buddies had come over drunk, and when they left they swerved all over the street and ended up driving over her pretty little flowers. She very quickly hated me, and the guys I thought where my friends where very quick to through me under the bus. They weren't my friends for very long. Seeing her walking dead corpse terrified me, so I went back inside. I hated to be cold. I hated to be scared. I also hated to be wet. I was all three at that moment. I very quickly started to decline into sadness, and that was the first day of the start of my depression.

Day 3

I woke up in the middle of the night to thunder. It was raining again. I layed in my bed for hours before I got up. I checked the fridge, then ate the last slice of cheese. I needed food. Fast. I finally got the balls to go outside and loot my neighbors house. They had headed off to some cabin in the woods a week ago, its not like they where going ot need the stuff inside. I opened a window after 10 minutes of trying to get it unstuck. I climbed in, closed the window, and searched the house. I went into the bathroom and found a dead man in the floor. He was black. The only reason this was significant was that the people that lived there where white. Next to him was a note, and under his body was a shotgun with three shells. His lower jaw had a gaping hole, which corresponded with one on the back of his head.

I am left with no other choice. I'm trapped in this god forsaken town, in this empty house that isn't even mine with only a few shells left. I hope whoever finds me gets good use of the shotgun. It's brand new. I got it with hopes off defeating the evil that inhabits those lost souls that just wander and moan. But I quickly discovered that the bullets only attract them. More than I could handle. I've already lost my wife and infant son. What else is there for me really? I've decided a bullet will make a nice last meal.

Thomas Doyle

The date on it is a week old. I was not home that day, I was still trying to get back to my house, so it made sense I didn't hear this man shoot himself. It took me almost 2 minutes just to get those three shells in the gun. I'd never used a gun before, the only experience I had where from my games. I then raided the cupboards and found some lone, forgotten cans and some vegetables in the fridge. I then stepped outside. I saw their mailbox, and knowing I needed some more stuff to read, I walked over, and grabbed the mail, which comprised of a single issue of some engineering magazine that was supposed to come in my mail. Then the zombie that I didn't notice on the ground clawed at me, and I shot it in the face. Then the others heard and came

"Get back! Stay back! Just go away!" I wailed.

I then shot one in the neck, blood spraying out on the street. I puked out what little food I had onto that same street. Finally, I topped it off by trying to shoot another but only succeeding in shooting the street. Poor street. I then was chased in to my house. They where everywhere. I broke the window with the butt of my newly acquired and ammo-less shotgun and exited my bedroom. One was one the other side and lunged for me. I fell over on my back and kicked it before sprinting away. I ran down the bank of the Ohio river and eventually left them behind. I found a dock and sat on the end of it, crying. I looked at the magazine I almost died and lost the safety of my home getting and tossed it in the river angrily. I then walked down the bank, trying to find the highway. I rounded a corner and found some zombies. I started crying again, thinking I was done for. One of them was faster than the others and came at me. It tackled me and we both went down in the mud, my balding head touching the water. Yep, I was 27 and losing my hair. I grabbed my gun and smacked him in the face. Today wasn't the day I wasn't going to die. I got up and beat it's face in with the gun, then ran past the others, confident in my ability to outrun them. I was slow, but they where slower. I then ran the whole way to the bridge. I climbed over the rails of the walkway and sat precariously on the edge of the red metal beam. I ate the veggies and a whole can of peas. I then walked the rest of the way to the raceway. I heard that they had planes there to evacuate people out of the state, which was plausible as the place used to be an airport. I got there and found it crowded with zombies, but no planes. That was one dream down the pipes. I went into a garage and found a screwdriver and a hammer. Now I had weapons. It was getting dark, and I was getting tired, so I went in to the office for the place and slept in the rolly chair.

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Chapter III: The End

Day 4

I woke to the moans of zombies outside. I grabbed my hammer and screwdriver and went out. I was quickly surrounded, and was chased away from the racetrack and down the railroad tracks. I just want to die! Why do my last day's have to be so terrible! I tried to fight, but ran out of panic. Eventually i got stuck in some building off by the tracks. I tried the door. Locked. The window. Locked I tried the last window, no hope left, and it opened! I ran inside, closed the window and ran to the bathroom. I tried to lock it, but the lock was broken. Why me? Why not the annoying Lynda? Oh wait. It did. That's what started this mess. I think. My memory has been going down the drain recently. Either way I was stuck in a bathroom. I pushed the door shut and kept pushing against the zombies trying to bust in. I started to cry, for I new this would be the end of my story. I couldn't hold it any longer, and they barged in, at which point, I accepted my fate...

 

Well, looks like that's the last of Billy Simpson. I'm going to make another one of these at some point, don't know when though. Let me know what you think, I'll take bad comments as well as long as it's not trolling. As always, thanks for reading.

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