Zombies From the Sky

[Maharg67]

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One 15.1[16]{20}

 

How the decision came to be made was not straight forward but it came to be that all of the animans, from the surface settlement, moved down into another glowcavern with all they could carry. The other glowcavern was smaller than the already settled one but not by much; it was quite also quite fertile in part and it had a river of its own. The former settlement was to become a general purpose outpost even as many structures were dismantled to be shifted down cave.

 

All helped as much as they could, the ship's doctor being forced to do so by the threats of the Second Mate. Nombies shifted large amounts, of heavy stuff, with ease as did the damphirs. The move went with surprising speed and efficiency; it was largely because the settlers, from above, feared that more threats would come and that the underground settlement should be easier to defend. It helped to know that the glowcrystal burned the undead, driving them back if not killing them.

 

The professor, and his daughter, were immortals who were far more than archaeologists. They focused on helping move the settlement, for a while, but then on carefully studying the caves of records. They studied the tradegoods also along with other items. They were trying to confirm their fears while hoping to find something that belayed those very fears.

Edited May 3, 2015 by Maharg67

[MotoSxorpio]

Good stuff, except that I feel the dialogue is written with machine translator. Somehow, this flows fine until there is dialogue, then something seems to get lost in translation.

 

This post is meant to give positive input towards the general direction this rpg takes, but the dialogue needs work...feels bionic. :) In no way does this mean I hate it, or that you should change your writing style. Dialogue just needs some...human attachment. Thank you for sharing, please do continue. :)

[Maharg67]

MotoSxorpio, thanks for the positive feedback. Truthfully I have not been happy with my dialogue in this writing. I feel it may because it lacks editing but also may be a reflection of my recent state of mind. There is also the fact that dialogue is not my strongest point as a writer. Again thank you for the feedback; I welcome more from you and others.

Edited April 11, 2015 by Maharg67

[MotoSxorpio]

:thumbsup: Don't let it block your writing. Just find a muse. ;)

[Maharg67]

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One 16.1[17]{21}

 

The black things, undead creatures flying when the sunshine was not too burning with ultraviolet, came in larger numbers as the wingpires that they were. That is they came to the island where Captain ManMonster was with his new people, the two lifeboat group were with their new people and the Oracle was to be found with her people.

 

Other undead things came also, being small wiry humanoids like distorted leathery monkeys, that were carried to the island and landed carefully in treetops. Only fear, and powerful mind control, stopped the wingpires devouring their passengers; this was despite that the undead gained little from feeding on other undead. Wingpires were not enabled with either much intelligence or wisdom.

 

The arrival of the monkapires was supposed to be a secret infiltration but soon local animans, and others, were spreading warnings of their arrival. Very experienced hunters, scouts and warriors went after the undead spies to kill them until the Oracle advised that observing the intruders was better.

 

The monkapires were clumsy in their attempts to move with stealth and easy to sniff out thanks to their strange odours. At first it was hard to know what it was that they were seeking until it was realised that they were heading towards the sea shore, fairly close to the big lagoon.

Edited May 3, 2015 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

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One 17.1[18]{22}

 

In the brightening sunshine the rebel animans fled away from the unlifen reavers, a kind of damphir, until it was realised that the newcomers had no interest in fighting. As tough as they were, the rebels were relieved for the fighting abilities of the bizarrely beautiful beings were renowned. Even other kinds of damphirs tended to avoid them.

 

The reavers moved along the golden sands of the beach, crabs and seagulls avoiding them, examining everything that they could. Then they stopped at what seemed to be just a basic piece of wooden junk. Except it was not so and the reaver commander was soon intently interested in it. It was a badly damaged boat of what seemed to be a false wood of synthetic materials. It was very modern, futuristic, and exotic. The reavers dragged it further up onto the dry sands, with ease despite its heaviness.

 

The dead thing, in the smallish vessel was perhaps human once but on the big side for one. In a strange metallic jumpsuit it had perished and had burned away. It had been some kind of undead. There were other items, in the boat, that the reavers' masters would want but the most important factor was that the boat was there at all. It's coming, as the reavers knew, was somehow both very important and a warning of something very bad to come.

 

The female reaver took out a flat, softly glowing gem, out of a pouch and placed it against her forehead. With a grimace she focused and soon another mind, far away, was using her senses to examine the boat. The experience only lasted for a few seconds but left her with a throbbing headache and feeling nauseous. With the help of two other reavers, she lay on the warm sands until she felt better.

 

The master's mind, the one who had 'used her senses', had supposed to be shielded from her but she had picked up deep concern from the powerful damphir named CrarlLanta.

 

Soon came a very surprising telepathic order, one that the reaver had never expected to be given, that the group was to try to make contact with the Oracle's people, even the rebels if it helped, for the Lord Reavers wished to communicate with her and to form some kind of alliance against a terrible threat coming to the islands.

 

After a rest, the reavers set out again but this time they moved slowly as they sought out the very rebels that they had ignored earlier.

Edited May 3, 2015 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

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One 18.1[19]{23}

 

Captain ManMonster spoke to the elders of his adopted people with a tone a firm command but also respect that he had gained for they who had survived well so many threats. "A door has opened for us, in the Home Chamber of wondrous resources, and though we do not know why it leads to a network of tunnels; there is a promise of new resources, of more freedom from the threats that face us, but also the possibility of more danger."

 

Elder Fredtom Junior, a chimpman animan elder, sat from where he sat on his own floor mat. "We think that ancient spirits, of the metallic stone gods, did recongise your greatness and generosity, Captain ManMonster. We would make you Chief Elder and place you on the Council of the Elders. You would have to pass our really big examination except its boring and we have excused you; so we now vote you to be our Chief Elder."

 

All of their elders held up at least one hand and waved them enthusiastically for some seconds before putting them down again.

 

Captain ManMonster, who was sitting on his own bigger mat, bowed from the waist. "I humbly thank you!"

 

The elders seemed relieved that such tedious formalities had not taken too long. There were much more exciting, and interesting, matters to discuss. Anyway it was mere formality for Captain ManMonster had taken up the role of Chief Elder even with out being named so. The former Chief Elder had been killed by the raiding tigerchimps but very few had liked him anyway; he had been set to be replaced.

 

A doorway had opened in one metallic stone wall of the Home Chamber. It led to a short metallic stone hallway that led to a much bigger metallic stone chamber. Exotic crystal like spheres dotted the ceiling and provided light. Then there was the big alcove with all of its smaller, but still large, alcoves. One was a toilet chamber, another for bathing, yet another for storage and so forth; they were still being worked out.

 

There was what seemed to be some kind of big, exotic, vending-machine. It was being worked out along with some other devices such as a machine thing with two of its own alcoves.

 

Yet the nine large metallic statues were somehow the strangest being tall figures of women in long flowing robes or ornamental armour or other exotic garments; there were three of each kind. All had bare breasts and all were youthful, slimly voluptuous, and yet their metallic eyes somehow managed to give the impression of vast age and wisdom.

 

All, but some guards, had been temporarily forbidden from going into that other chamber. Yet the new Chief Elder was concerned for some animan types were ever curious, tending to get into trouble, and so it was no surprise when a great hue and cry began. It did so as two excited guards raced through the open doorway, clutching spears and crying out about a guard vanishing away.

Edited May 3, 2015 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

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One 19.1[20]{24}

 

Rebel leader Roger was not happy to be facing the reaver leader but the other was calmly almost smiling, or at least trying to do so with some success. The other spoke in a cool voice, alive but not so, but one that was noticeably female.

 

"The Reaver Masters serve, in a semiautonomous fashion, the Lords of Utopia. They the survivors of the living immortals who once ruled the Utopian Isles to the bountiful good of all. Now I have finished the propaganda, I will get to the point; a great threat is coming to the Utopian Isles and there is need for a mutual alliance to take place. The Lords of Utopia know of, and support, this move. This despite the estrangement between the Oracle and her father, Professor Frankenstein."

 

Finished the propaganda? Roger found himself starting to like the reaver despite efforts not to do so. "I can only promise to send a message to the Oracle. I do not speak for her, of course. We rebels are separate from her people but in truth we depend a great deal on her and are very protective of her. You have killed many animans."

 

The reaver shook her head. "Far less than your wild stories would have it be. Tigerchimps have killed far more and, in truth, they are a unique kind of triple hybrid animan. That is a dark irony that your cousins are more dangerous to your people than we are, despite your stories. We must remain here and protect the strange boat. I take it that you will go some distance and contact the Oracle in some kind of psychic fashion."

 

Roger nodded. "Yes though I sometimes think it would be easier, and less painful, to use pigeons."

 

The reaver looked surprised. "Yes, I agree, much less painful."

 

That response surprised Roger, the dogman, in turn.

Edited May 3, 2015 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

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Zero 6.1[6]{25}

 

Field Marshal Henry Adler studied the battlefield from the top of his lightly armoured command truck, that was partly a semi-enclosed viewing platform complete with a big tripod-binoculars, a big camera and a movie camera. The cameras were used to make records to be studied later, by supposed experts, in other places far from there.

 

Armatraks, big armoured machines driven on caterpillar tracks, approached the isolated western coastal area of Australia. Big, multiple turreted, the machines roared past walled encampments, big diesel armoured trucks and formations of infantry soldiers moving to the battle area. They had gas-masks but had not put them on. There were many with bolt-action rifles, that could be fixed with bayonet knives, some with new type semiautomatic rifles, others with flame-throwers and even those with exotic metal electric shock-lances. Archers marched in their own formations, ready to drop clouds of arrows onto the zombies that were once just normal Australian citizens.

 

The glimmering mist had caught the small town by surprise, when most had been sleeping in their beds. Only about a quarter of the population had survived thanks to the dreams of children, the mad barking of dogs and the careful preparations made by the town council. Many townies had refused to take the threat seriously, doubting that anything like it could be anything but mad fantasies; they had paid the price, the lucky ones being killed.

 

Unlifen nhools, nombies and damphirs were recruited along with so called living monsters, the semihumans as they were starting to be commonly called. They were excepted, by certain military commands at least, as necessary to the war effort against the undead. Other immunes, to undeath, were valued but carefully supervised since at least some were undeath time bombs.

 

Howitzers, and other artillery, hurled shells at the enemy from walled emplacements. Explosions sprouted up from the glimmering green fog shrouded town where unlifen would soon raid. The mist was leaving the town, was moving slowly eastwards, as the daylight grew stronger. Yet it was also visibly suffering because of that same sunlight. It was moving with an inshore breeze but this meant little as such glimmering mists had been sighted as moving against air currents though being slowed by them.

 

Adler wore the uniform of the British Imperial Special Forces designated with the task of helping to fight exotic threats. Yet his official identity far from told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. He wore dark sunglasses and an odd looking metallic scarf. On his hands he wore thick black leather gloves. He stood with an amazing stillness except for the movements of his head that went slowly side to side. It was said that he missed nothing, at least nothing of importance.

 

An airship floated in the distance, observing the town and most likely using cameras to take photographs, and films, of the situation.

 

Soon the first military aeroplanes would arrive to drop bombs on the town and to strafe it with bullets. Adler hoped that survivors had locked themselves down in underground places sealed up tight against the glimmering mist.

 

It was then that he realised something most strange about what was happening; far more zombies were coming out from the town, in the edges of the green mist, than had been the population of the town. Also many of the zombies were of the advanced kind with full leathery like skin covering their bodies and translucent fangs plus claws; it took more than a few days for zombies to achieve that state but not even 24 hours had passed since the glimmering mist had appeared. Just where were the extra zombies coming from and how were they getting there?

Edited May 3, 2015 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

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Zero 7.1[7]{26}

 

The news of more zombies emerging from glimmering fog, than could be accounted for 'locally', was profoundly disturbing information. The League of Nations created the LN Paranormal Research Development Defence Agency, the LNPRDDA that was mostly called the PRDDA. The PRDDA had its headquarters at Geneva but soon had branches in many nations around the world.

 

The PRDDA was quick to link up with the Watchguardia and other organisations already involved in dealing with paranormal threats. This included the British Imperial Special Security Agency. Yet it also linked up with a wide range of other organisations be they security intelligence, scientific, military or of other kinds.

 

One resource soon grabbed up was the international ham radio operators network. These men, and women, would gather up hopefully important information, that they heard, and transmit it to the PRDDA or, failing that, to one of a few listed agencies. It was decided to train, equip, and pay more of the HROs and to grant support to those already existing.

 

Important meetings were being held, along with not so important ones. The League of Nations became embroiled, once again, with both international and internal politics but this was only to be expected. The international press were also very interested because it was what people wanted to read in newspapers, listen on the radio to and watch either with TV or movie newsreels.

Edited May 3, 2015 by Maharg67