Shout out to the two background gentlemen who were enthralled by their devices.
TheJester's forum posts
@johnny_blaze Hey, tried to contact "MaccyD", I believe, but haven't gotten a reply. In Wave one I started a story, but got pulled away, so I'm looking to start something new, are there any bigger titles that haven't been taken?
“Oh my god, what are we going to do?”
Jeremiah questioned, slinking down into a ball within the corner of the small, dimly lit room. The middle-aged doctor ran both hands through his dark brown, unkempt hair, tugging harshly at it in what seemed to be frustration as he bellowed a sick sound which crossed between a howl and a whimper. He was trapped in a haunted house filled with ghouls straight out of a horror movie he had once seen as a child. A horror movie which had instilled him with nightmares well through his pre-teen years. Now, however, as he peeked up through those messy tangles of hair and peered at the three men before him, he was more scared than he had ever been before.
“We need to-We need too…”
Oswald Cobblepot trailed off, squeezing his eyes tight. He had now become quiet, letting out a single, shaky breath before he fell into one of the two wooden seats near a small matching table in the opposing corner of the room from Jeremiah. The man so commonly referred to as “The Penguin” rested both arms on the table, before dropping his head into his hands in frustration. He was so commonly a man who had a plan for everything, though he was drawing a blank. He had never been prepared for this.
“Well, how many bullets do we have left?”
Garfield Lynns piped up, pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning against. He now sauntered into the centre of the roughly 6x12 room and directed his attention towards Cobblepot, the obvious brains of the small group. He’d been taking inventory of everything they had over-and-over for the past two days, he’d realized roughly seven hours ago that they’d all but run out of food.
“I heard you fire off two shots with the shotgun, so we’ve got five shells left. Jerry’s magnum over there only has three, and my handgun’s got six left. How many bullets you got in that thing, Harvey?”
Penguin retorted, turning his attention to Harvey Dent with his question. The man with two identities had been leaning against the large, bolted metal door the entire time, the moans from outside made it vibrate softly, a feeling which both terrified him, but also kept the man alert and on his toes. He was the newest recruit, and as he glanced around at the three men, he cursed his luck. Cobblepot was a good ally in most cases, an intelligent and vicious man, but he could tell The Penguin was quickly unravelling. Lynns was a talker, but above that, a high school dropout and nutbar. Then there was Jeremiah, the man who had subjected them all to various types of psychological torture. He of course had deemed it “Rehabilitation”, Harvey and his fellow inmates called it “Sick and depraved.” Beyond that, Arkham was a pansy, he couldn’t take what was going on around him. He wasn’t cut out for violence of any sort.
Harvey breathed out, glancing down at the long-barrel revolver in his hand. It was in that moment, when he saw Oswald lean back in his seat, letting out a chuckle of disbelief and Garfield’s face fell, portraying a look of hopelessness that Dent decided he had to take charge. With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his coin, giving it a quick flip he soon shoved it back into his pocket.
“Can we make it to the guards’ armory?”
He asked, no reply was given. Harvey snarled.
He barked, his intact nostril flaring noticeably. Each man gave Two-Face their undivided attention. Cobblepot shook his head.
“There’s no way, it’s on the opposite end of the island.”
He spat out, crossing his arms.
“Well, do we have any options?”
Harvey posed the question. None of the men piped up, their silence allowing the sickening sounds of moans and guttural noises emanate through the walls. Lynns’ eyes lit up.
“What about the patients equipment room? We’re in the storage building right?”
Two-Face shot Jeremiah a look, searching for an answer, but the doctor merely stared at the ground. A tear slipping from his eye. Both Oswald and Garfield then looked to Jeremiah. A few moments of silence passed before Arkham noticed their gazes. He tuned into the conversation.
“Yes, it’s….Yes, we’re in-in that building.”
He stammered out. Harvey nodded, twisting the revolver in his hand, now holding it by the barrel. He had to make due with what he had, and at this very moment, that was very little. The multi-man turned towards the door and undid the large lock, an action which brought all three of the other men to their feet in fear, raising their respective weapons.
Arkham screamed. Dent looked over his shoulder at Jeremiah, blinking the one eye which actually had a lid which he could blink with. He pulled his coin out of his pocket and flipped it, gazing at the outcome.
He replied simply. Opening the door, all four of the men quickly made their way out into the hallway. It seemed normal in nature, the one hallway which hadn’t been completely ravaged. It had actually been blocked off in the chaos, however their emergence from that small room caused a momentary silence in the moans, a momentary silence which caused them all to pause. Then, in that brief moment, the far hallway door which connected with the cafeteria and storage building’s lobby burst open, a large group of undead creatures clammering in.
“Shoot! Fu$%ing shoot!”
Two-Face screamed, sprinting in the opposite direction.
“We’ll waste all our ammo!”
Garfield screamed, firing a single shell into the crowd, allowing a wet pop to crawl out of the cacophony of growls and gurgles. Two of the creatures at the forefront of the herd collapsed, causing a large blockage in the hallway. Bones crunched beneath others and shrill screams from the undead bid the group farewell as they made their way into an adjoining hallway, sprinting as fast as they could, Oswald lagging behind only somewhat.
“It won’t matter! We’ll get more in the equipment room! Now Arkham, make yourself useful and tell us which way!”
Jeremiah pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose and blinked, before replying in a distant fashion.
“Um-uh-Down the hallway, we’ll cut through the cafeteria. On the other side it’s just another room over.”
The door which connected the hallway they’d just been in, and the hallway they had now made it half way down burst off it’s hinges beneath the full force of the horde. They were only ten feet away from the monstrous formation of putrid flesh. One rather rotund zombie pushed it’s way through the group, letting out a roar as a stream of blood and innards sprayed from it’s mouth, splattering across Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot’s orange jumpsuits, causing the little man to scream out in horror and shock, that one specific zombie sprinting forward towards The Penguin, who couldn’t muster the ability to run. A quick coin flip and the intervention from a damaged man ended with Harvey Dent burying the handle of his revolver into the creatures skull, watching as it crumpled.
“GO! GO! GO!”
Harvey roared, grabbing Oswald by the arm and advancing down the corridor. Jeremiah and Garfield followed suit, the latter of which fumbled with his gun, forcing a shell into the single shot shotgun, firing one more into the group, with relatively the same results as the first time. Seemingly in the nick of time, the four pushed their way through the double doors into the cafeteria. Harvey pushed Oswald about four feet into the room and flicked the locks shut, quickly gathering up a metal tray and pushing it through the two handles. The doors were pushed upon with great force soon after, the tray bent, but it was enough, for now.
All four men breathed sighs of relief, all staring at the door. They’d made it away, albeit barely. They were close.
The group’s eyes widened, and they all spun around, training their guns on a scrawny, nude man who sat at a cafeteria table roughly five feet away. He had a coffee in one hand, and a hot dog in another. A goofy, yet nervous smile was plastered onto his face.
To be continued....
Author's notes: So, I'm back! Went on a bit of a hiatus there, but I'm back to writing, hope to stay, love the community. I'm just getting back to form, so this was fun, hopefully I'll be releasing the next chapters of this story on a weekly basis, I've got plans for these guys, and this whole zombified world in general, so it should be fun. Tell me what you thought about the chapter. Thanks guys, and happy writing.
!!!SPOILERS AHEAD FOR BATMAN #35!!!!
So, for those of us who have read the newest issue of Batman, it's revealed that Joker is the big bad. Or, what we're supposed to believe is Joker at least.
Now, I don't know if I'm reading the back-up wrong, but I'm understanding that we're supposed to believe Joker is some sort of demon? Now, if this is true, I'm actually quite upset. I found myself loving Snyder's interpretation of Joker, though if we're supposed to suddenly believe he's the devil or something along those lines, it really ruins it for me. I find it ruins the entire Joker character.
Does anyone else feel the same way, or are there any other opinions on this change?
@mr_clockwork91 @guardiansofthegalaxymarvelfan @knightsofdarkness2 Hey guys, thanks for the suggestions, after doing what you both told me, it just started trying to do the updates on it's own again, so I left it for a few hours, and voila, everything seemed to sort itself out!