End of Days | closed rp with thefieryscout
thefieryscout
It's been 157 days since Teufort fell victim to the deadly virus.
The weather was hot and sticky, the sun had just set behind the treeline and was quickly fading out all together. Soon it would be too dark to tell where you were going and soon the dead would stir, becoming more restless. Nighttime was always dangerous. If one didn't have the proper lightening they could end up stepping in a bear trap or being attacked by God knows what. But that didn't mean day time was much safer, but at least you could see where you were going.
~
The darkness had settled in and Ryan could barely see where he was going through the thick forest, it wasn't until he got within arms length that could he see the trees in front of him. Knowing that his flashlight batteries were pretty much completely dead, he sighed heavily. Maybe the batteries would work until he got to the next safe house? Ryan knew the answer to this already, he'd be lucky if he got even 4 minutes of light. But, hey.. It's worth a shot, right?
Ryan stopped in front of a big oak tree, looking around to make sure no one or no thing was around before he sat down, back planted against the strong trunk. He pawed through his backpack finding the flashlight, switching it on he held it in his mouth, pointing the light into the bag. He felt around for a bottle of water but came up empty. Letting out another sigh he zipped up the bag and stood up, heading in the direction of the supposed safe house he heard about.
After another 20 minutes of walking, and the flashlight surprisingly going strong, Ryan finally saw it! The big, white arrow pointing in the direction of the safe room. He hurried along the dirt trail, worn down by many feet walking along it and thats where he saw it. The most beautiful thing one could hope for in this shit hole of a world; the all too familiar rusted red door, illuminated by a single dull light hung above it. Ryan ran to the door unlatching the handle and rushing in, slamming and locking it behind him. He leaned back against the door, sliding down until he sat on the floor. Man, he was thankful for a place to sleep tonight.
After catching his breath, Ryan stood slowly, walking over to the previous inhabitants makeshift bed and throwing his bag down. He could see from across the room a small pile of ammo, a few pistols, and a somewhat broken full length mirror. 'What a strange thing to put in a safe room.' he thought. The last thing people wanted to see nowadays was how awful they looked. But the mirror peaked Ryan's interest, he walked over to it, examining himself and what he saw struck disgust in himself. His once white shirt was streaked with blood and dirt, his cargo pants ripped at both knees, and his work boots didn't have the slightest bit of tan left to see. He looked like a mess and on top of that he had longer hair and a pretty gnarly beard. He made a disgusted face as he dragged his finger tips across along his jaw line, feeling the dirtiness of his face. In the middle of his self pity party Ryan heard a noise, one which startled him. “Was that a scream?” he whispered. He turned slowly, taking a few steps closer to the door to get a look, but he couldn't see anything.
