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More from ~God-of-the-Lost

Urban Dead- Chapter 1
The city's gone to hell.

The living dead walk its streets.

Looters and bandits prey on the survivors, stealing and killing and raping.

The military has quarantined us.

There's no help coming.

We're on our own.

I can't remember what month it is anymore, aside from the fact that it's about six months since the plague first broke out. Things like dates just aren't important anymore. Not when the biggest thing on my mind is whether or not I'll live to see the next sunrise.

Or how much ammo I have left.

Or if some shambling, rotting thing is going to tear my throat out in my sleep.

My name is Stephen Wolfe, and this is my story.

I used t
Living Death- Screenplay
Prologue: The Awakening

We see a cement catwalk above a parking lot, littered with debris. The camera closes in on a discarded newspaper on the ground. The headline reads RIOTS IN THE CITY, HUNDREDS DEAD. The camera then moves to a second paper, reading INEXPLICABLE EVENTS RAVAGE COUNTRYSIDE. A third paper reads GOVERNMENT EXPERIMENTATION BLAMED FOR UNDEAD NIGHTMARE. Another reads THE DEAD WALK, NEW YORK IN RUINS. A final one: GOVERNMENTS COLLAPSE IN WORLDWIDE CRISIS. A hand appears from off camera. It picks up the paper and we see LEON for the first time. He reads the paper, a resigned look on his face. As the camera pans back we see that A
Pariah- Part 1
It was dawn when the angels came.
   I had passed the night in a cramped, narrow alleyway, my back against a grey metal dumpster. The place reeked of garbage and old urine, and I slept beneath a pile of ragged, filthy blankets to keep out the cold October night. Sleep had been slow  to come, and when the temperature of the air around me suddenly dropped about twenty degress, I merely mumbled something, shivered, and pulled my legs in closer.

   That's when the Sound came. The Sound was always signaled their arrival, and it was subtly different for each of them, at least from what I'd seen. For this one, it Sounded like flowers opening in
The Forsaken, incomplete draft
My name is Alan Spencer, and I am a vampire. You could say I'm immortal. I will never age, I will never sicken, and left to my own devices, I will never die. I was seventeen years old when I became a vampire, though unlike some others, I did not seek to join the undead. My intention was never to live forever. Quite the opposite, in fact.

You see, my story begins with a suicide. My suicide, or at least my attempt. It would have worked, too, had not an ancient vampire by the name of Marius intervened.

Of course, I did not at the time believe in vampires- and what sensible man would? Surely these nightmarish creatures of the night existed sole
UntitledShe tore out my heart
With just a few words

She crushed the air from my lungs
And laid my body to rest
on the cold hard ground

I've forgotten how to stand
And so I'll lie still

Don't you feel lonely when you're in the crowd?

You think you heal
But you just forget
Hide the pain from yourself
Bury it deep in your mind

Convince yourself there's hope
The sweetest touch of a comforting lie

Doesn't the pain come back?
Burning through your soul?
And blinding you

Like a dear caught in the headlights?

Does it slice through your flesh
like
the
blade
of
a
Knife?

God, it hurts to live
The Sickness- Outbreak
September 27, 2007
                                                 Lab 257
         Military Germ Warfare Research And Development Center
                          Somewhere Off The Coast of Long Island  
                                                 2:53 AM

Private First Class Jeremy Carter pulled the trigger, and his comanding officers head exploded, splattering the concrete wall behind him with blood and brain matter. What was left of him crumpled to the ground, rotting hands twitching as he fell. Something that had once been a scientist took his place, it's lab coat torn and stained with blood. Carter kicked it squarely in

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December 24, 2005
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:iconjcdecaux:
!JCDecaux Dec 24, 2005   Photographer
madness :+fav:
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