Van Savage, a young man with a troubled past. He walks down the street calmly seeing nothing in sight as he bites his lip. "Nothing but empty streets, I suppose I should be thankful," he mutters to himself. He only carries his sword and scythe that he should very well shun those who gave him these gifts. He aimlessly wonders the streets seeing, smelling, feeling the wreak and chaos that stood around him. "I feel at home with all this destruction laying around. It almost feels like if it were in my head like an imaginary world. No wonder my family locked me up in the facility," Van says with a grin on his face. He looks around to find a vehicle to go through the city faster but most of the vehicles here are destroyed, on fire, tires popped, and among other things. "This won't be easy to find a form or transportation."
Van hears moaning coming from one of the buildings from his right. Turning to see where its coming from. It's a jogger coming from the alley. It sees him while he draws out his scythe. "Go to HELL!" Van growls swinging his scythe up digging into the jogger's torso. Van propels the zombie by hooking his scythe to its ribs bringing it up to a painful fall as its face smashes into the asphalt. He draws out his sword with his left hand. With the scythe in his right, he picks up the struggling zombie raising its head and cuts it off with his sword. He takes out the scythe from the body walking to a convenient store across from him. He looks inside seeing nothing move for the moment. He walks down the aisles in search of finding rubbering alcohol. There is a lot of blood on this aisle not to mention most of the rubbing alcohol is gone. He grabs one of the bottles opening it. He pours it on both of his weapons disinfecting them. He looks for a clothing rack to find any piece of cloth. He goes over to any of the racks grabbing a shirt cleaning both blades off. Once done, he puts away both of his weapons. While he is there, he picks up a backpack opening it to put two shirts. He walks back to the aisle with the rubbing alcohol grabbing two bottles. He puts it in the backpack. He goes down another aisle getting a few cans of beef and chili. He walks to one of the coolers grabbing two bottles of whiskey. "This would make a great fire for those damned undead," Van says with a demented smile across his face.
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Subject: Outbreak part 1 
Sat Jun 07, 2008 1:01 am
