>>959099

Check here to refresh on the story.

Of course!

The drive back to town was silent. Rick periodically buzzed the station, hoping for a response, but all he got was silence. He couldn’t escape his own mind, and he leaned his head against the window of the car, closing his eyes.

Evelyn had asked him to call in every once in a while, check up with her. He’d gotten so caught up in his work, he’d forgotten. What if they weren’t ok? That wasn’t something he wanted to think about, but he found himself unable to focus on anything else.

After a while, Dave spoke up. “Do we have a plan? I mean, we didn’t get a good look at the town before we left. The place could be overrun.” He sighed. “And we’re out of ammo. Should we stop at the precinct and pick up some?”

Rick didn’t respond right away. “Rick?”

“Yeah, sorry. I… I don’t know Dave. I think I’m done with this. I’m going to get Bobby and Evelyn, and I think we’re going to leave.”

“Leave?”

“Yeah. Move in with my sister for a while or something. Even if everything is alright…” He looked at Dave, then out the windshield. “This town still belongs to the dead.”

The tires of the cruiser crunched lazily along main street. It was eerily silent, empty and devoid. Rick immediately become uncomfortable. “Pick up the speed, Dave. I live off 10th.” He directed his friend towards his house. Unbeknownst to him, his leg started bouncing nervously, and he could feel sweat collecting on his brow.

His house came into view, and he had Dave pull into the driveway behind his Volkswagen. “Pop the trunk. I want the shotgun.” Arming himself with the cruiser’s emergency weapon, Rick turned the front door of the house. The setting sun cast long shadows along his driveway, a tall, solitary figure. He felt a bit like a sentinel.

“Evelyn?” He shouted at the house. “Evelyn, it’s Rick! Are you home?”

Silence. Rick swallowed a knot of air in his throat and looked at Dave, who nodded towards the front door. Rick pumped the shotgun and started in towards the house, motioning for Dave to wait at the car.

The front door was unlocked. This was not a good sign; being a police officer, Rick had everyone in the house in the habit of locking the door at all times, especially if he wasn’t home.

It swung open unencumbered. “Evelyn?” His voice was shaky now, unconfident. The house was still in order; nothing was knocked over, no mess, no signs of a struggle. He cleared his throat and called his wife’s name again. The kitchen, the living room, the downstairs bathroom, the study. All empty. He climbed the stairs steadily, the barrel of the shotgun shaking so bad from left to right he wasn’t sure he could hit anything.

The bathroom, his son’s room, the guest room, the music room, the master bedroom. Once again, all empty. Rick dropped the tip of his gun and breathed a heavy sigh.

He pulled his cell phone and dialed his wife’s number, starting back down the stairs. Ring. Ring. Ring. No answer. This unnerved him. He closed and locked the front door behind him out of habit.

“Is… everything ok?” Dave asked nervously. Rick turned to face him, his face hard and unreadable.

“No one was home. The house was empty.” He raised his cell. “Evelyn isn’t answering, either.”

Dave didn’t say a word, but got back into the car. Rick joined him in the passenger seat, dialing Evelyn’s number again. “I bet she went to my sister’s. That was always our plan; if there was an emergency, she would go to my sister’s and I would meet her there. That’s where I need to go.”

“Well, we’re going back to the precinct. We can replenish our am-“ Dave slammed on the brakes and they both lurched forward. “Look. Over there.” He pointed out the windshield.

Shuffling towards the cruiser was a small child. Rick leaned forward, and his eyes widened.

There was a gash in the girl’s stomach, and everything resembling a vital organ inside of her was spilling outwards like an overflowing grocery bag. Her intestines had begun to unravel and we’re trailing along behind her in the rocks. Dave covered his mouth with has hand. The little girl’s dead and vacant eyes were locked on the car, and she was moving, slowly but steadily, towards them. Rick’s voice wavered.

“The town. It’s been overrun. How… how did this happen so fast? What even fucking happened?!” He slammed his fist hard into the dashboard. “God dammit, what’s going on!”

Dave laid his foot down on the gas, his eyebrows furrowing together tightly, his mouth splitting open into a deathly rictus. “FUCK.” He slammed his foot into the gas and the car roared in defiance. “YOU.” There was a loud thump and a soft squash as the police cruiser rolled over the dead girl with enough force to bring down a wall. She bounced up and hit the windshield, cracking it inwards. Rick covered his face and shouted.

Dave slammed on the brakes and fishtailed the car, swinging it around in a hard 180. Rick clung to the door and kept his eyes shut. The cruiser skidded to a halt, but only for a second, before Dave slammed on the gas again and hit the little girl in the road with as much speed as he could get. Again he slammed on the brakes, but this time he opened the door and got it, running at the girl on the ground. Spittle flew from his mouth as he screamed angrily, sweeping his foot in a high soccer arc, catching the side of her head and splattering it across the road.

Rick climbed out of the car and stood next to it, watching him, unwilling to step forward. He could see his shoulders shaking.

Minutes passed, and Dave turned around, his face once again a mask. “Fuck this city, Rick.”

“Dave…”

“No. It’s too late. You need to leave. There’s nothing left for you here in this god forsaken city. And I mean that literally.” He looked at the headless corpse at his feet. “God’s forgotten about us.” Rick breathed out heavily, unsure of what to say.

Bump for ending!

“Let’s go, Dave. You can come with me to my sister’s. We’ll figure out what to do from there.”

Dave shook his head. “What’s the point? I’m not married, have no girls. No kids. My parents are gone, and I was an only child. I have nothing left. I was born in this city, and I lived my whole life in this city.” Rick didn’t like this kind of talk. “I need to die in this city.”

Rick started forward. “No, Dave, you don’t. Come on. Let’s get out of here. Everything is fine elsewhere. You can start a new life. It’s just a town.”

Dave drew his empty pistol and looked at it, then reached into his pocket. “You think I want to live in this world, Dave? Do you think I’m young enough that I can adapt to this?” He turned around and stomped down on the course of the little girl. “You think we can learn to live alongside these things? I don’t want to live like that, Rick!”

Rick scrambled forwards. “What the fuck are you saying, Dave? This isn’t like you, not at all!”

“How old was I when my parents died, Rick?” Dave asked without turning around.

“Come on, D-“ His friend whipped around, whipping his arm wildly.

“FUCKING TELL ME, RICK! HOW OLD WAS I WHEN THAT DRUNK BASTARD KILLED THEM?”

“E… eight.”

“I was eight years old, Richard. I was eight when the only two people I had in this world were taken from me. How is that fair?” He sank to his knees in the middle of the street, his back to the bloody corpse. “What kind of world does that to a little kid?”

Rick crouched down in front of his friend, who still refused to cry. “Life throws you curveballs. Sometimes it takes your parents, and sometimes it takes the whole town.”

“You think this is a joke, Rick? You think you can smile and make jokes and I’ll realize you’re right and stand up and everything will be ok?” He pushed Rick away. “My parents were all I had, and they got taken away. After that, all I had was this town, and now that’s in shambles and condemned!” He shot to his feet.

Rick stood up as well, except now he was angry. “You think you’re the only one effected by this, Dave? You think you’re the only one who LOST anything? I don’t know even know if my family is alive anymore! I was right there beside you when this place came tumbling down! In the precinct, I came to FIND you. I risked my life for you! How dare you say you have nothing left!” He pushed Dave now, a harsh shove against his chest. “We’re all watching our lives fall apart”

Dave stared at his friend, his partner, eyes wide, and then furrowed his eyebrows. “Maybe, Rick. Maybe now you’ll feel the pain of loss that I’ve felt.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single bullet, chambering the round and clicking the slide home. “Maybe now you’ll understand.” He nestled the barrel of the gun into his temple.

Rick’s eyes widened and he stumbled forward, grasping for the gun. “N-“ but was cut off when Dave brought the cold metal of the butt against Rick’s head, knocking him out cold.

Oh, I like not having to wait for these. OP finish writing this before hand?

The sun hurt Rick’s eyes. The windshield of the police cruiser was dented in and glass dust kept getting all over the dashboard, but he couldn’t find himself able to care. He had woken up less than an hour ago next to the corpse of a little girl, and the much fresher corpse of his best friend David Caruthers.

Rick was now alone. He had no idea how things fell apart so fast. Somehow, between the time he arrested the man in the barn and now. The only other people he had seen besides Caruthers since the coroner came back was those people in the closet. He wondered if they had made it fine, and where they had gone.

He was on the freeway headed north towards his sister’s house, and he had yet to see another car. Every once in a while, the shuffling figure of the walking dead shambled by, making a half-hearted attempt to grab the cruiser.

Rick felt numb. He felt lost, alone, and powerless. He had know idea what was going and if there was anything he could do about it. He dialed Evelyn’s phone again. Straight to voicemail.

Dave had been his best friend for years, and partner for a number of those years. Rick had always felt that the loss of his parents had forged him into a stronger person, which is what made him such a good cop. But this… everything that happened, had broken him down. Rick wasn’t as strong as Dave, and if he broke underneath the threat of eternal loneliness, what chance did Rick have?

Then again, Dave had no one to live for.

Rick’s thoughts turned once again to Evelyn and Bobby, and he focused away from the suicide and back towards his sister’s house.

The closer he approached to the big city, the more undead he saw. They shuffled quietly, alone or in droves, ignoring his car. The sight of so many made Rick’s heart heavy. He didn’t have any guns in his car. There was an emergency hatchet in the trunk, but that was it.

He approached the street his sister’s house was on and stopped the car. He counted no less than 20 shuffling corpses loitering around the area, so he equipped himself with the hatchet. He was in no mood to fight, but he could see the house up ahead, and he’d do what it took to get there.

The good thing about zombies was that they weren’t particularly fast. Rick used this to his advantage, jogging ahead. A few were close enough to take a brave swipe, but a hammer-strong blow from his hatchet put that to rest. The pick on the other end of the blade worked perfectly, penetrating skulls like a hot knife butter. Rick hated that analogy. He could not ever imagine a situation where someone would be handling a hot knife, but it seemed apropos here.

He made it to the driveway without consequence, and turned around. He’d drawn their attention, and they were shuffling towards him. Slowly, but they were dogged in their approach. A large group had somehow been alerted on the other end of the street, and they were making their way over as well. He turned back to the house.

“Evelyn!” He shouted. His voice was strung thin with desperation. “Bobby! Larissa!”

He swore he heard crickets over the moaning. He started towards the doorway, when he realized it was slightly ajar. Once again, his heart sunk. He couldn’t count how many times this had happened.

“Fuck.” He swore, bounding up the steps of the front porch and kicking the door in.

“Evelyn! Bobby! Larissa!” He heard something upstairs. Footsteps. “Hello?”

He rushed the stairs, taking them three at a time, his hatchet forgotten on the floor. “It’s me, Rick!”

He reached the top of the stairs and slid to a halt. His sister was standing at the other end of the hallway, staring at him.

What was left of her, anyway. It looked like she’d gone down hard. Her clothes were ripped all to hell, and her left arm was gone entirely. Her jaw was hanging off of one hinge, and she began her lurch forward.

Rick doubled over and emptied the contents of his stomach for the second time. Straightening, he stared his sister in her rotting face.

“Where’s Evelyn?” She didn’t respond, just lawled forward, her one arm raised. “Where is she? Did she come here?” Larissa continued forward, and Rick grew angrier.

“You’re my sister, Larissa. We’ve always had each other’s backs. Always. If they were here or called you, you need to tell me.” Silence. Rick realized tears were streaming down his face. He touched his cheek.

After all that had happened, he’d not had time to cry. He couldn’t find time to slow down enough to let the weight of his situation pull him down, but here he was sobbing. Perhaps it was the dead sight of his sister. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he may never find Evelyn and Bobby. Maybe it was the helplessness, the feeling of a rat lost in a maze with no prize. Maybe it was being alone, or having no idea what happened, or where these things were coming from. He shook his head and screamed.

He screamed until his throat ripped and he could feel blood in his mouth. He screamed until his lungs collapsed inwards. He screamed until his vision turned red and his fingers shook and his knees weakened.

Rick had been unable to bring himself to kill his sister. She was already dead, she didn’t deserve to be killed again. Instead, he locked the door behind him. She would stay in that house forever.

He had no way of finding his wife and son. She had not answered any of the 36 calls he’d made, and they weren’t at his sister’s, now a mausoleum. He could not imagine… he cleared his throat. He could not imagine they were still alive.

He stepped off of the porch, his hatchet in hand. He wiped sweat from his brow. As far as he knew, he was the only person alive. Perhaps on the entire planet. The zombies had gathered around the house now, swarming in like flies to a light. He braced his foot behind him.

If he was the last person alive on the entire planet, that means he was all that was left. He deserved life more than a corpse did. He deserved this planet more than a corpse did.

He hefted his hatchet in one hand, growling.

This was HIS world now.

Cool. Could I post this to the creepypasta area of the site I admin? I'll credit you and everything.

>>962968
Oh, yeah. Sure.

D:

Cool, thanks. Who do you want to be credited as, if at all?

>>962976
Credit it to Soapdish, please. I have big plans for this and I don't want to accidentally lose ownership of it.

bump for others

Ah, okay. Cool. Well, It'll be here:

http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/main

in the Creepypasta area in the library in a little while, but it'll probably be tomorrow before I put it up. It's near three in the morning where I'm at, and I've been at work all day, so I'm about to pass out.

Still, thanks man!

>>962992
thank you

OH NO.

RICK :(

Wow.

This reads like a screenplay. OP, I hope your

>big plans

Including selling this to movie rights. I WANT TO SEE THIS MOVIE

bump for fucking win

excellent, fantastic and all that good stuff. I'm with the other anons you should submit this for movie production OP

Great story.
10/10

I've never stuck with something like this, OP.

There was a lot writing there, but I stuck around. I liked it that much.

I'm going to request this thread archived so the second part can be preserved, too

bump so everybody from yesterday can read it

Oh man.

Fucking hell.

o/ I love you OP

BUMP

10/10

a good, smart zomie story.

one internets.

/k/ommando checking in - great story that could be truly awesome with a little polish and fleshing out of the charcters and whatnot. for future reference however, the semi-automatic handguns these guys would have been using take "magazines" and not "clips".

Loved it. I hope Rick is alive. ;_;

>>963189
Indeed, if you mean he lives on in Vallhalla.

Seriously, I heard the ending music for 300 when I pictured him departed from the front steps into the swarm of the damned.

meh

I love it, OP. One of the best zombie stories I've ever read. Just brilliant. I'd love to see this in novel form someday, if you'd think about it. It's sad to think that it's over, but the ending leaves me satisfied enough not to care.

http://www.lulu.com/

If you ever want to publish it/print it.

bump

i missed the begginning :(((

>>963792
there was an archive request, don't worry. It'll be up in a few days

Thank you very much for the very awesome story, OP.

This is truly epic!

If I remember correctly, someone somewhere owes me cookies

I wish I'd caught the beginning

fuckin a'

I am very satisfied A++++

Bloody awesome OP , I've always wanted to write something up but always got sidetracked or bored of it.

Your an inspiration, brilliant work

bumping for win

Full story can be found here

http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/c-s-i-raccon-city

OP, are you a proffesional writer?
Write book, pls.

OP, you mentioned you had big plans for this stuff. Hate to say it, but publishers are gonna be less inclined to be interested in your work if you pre-publish on the internets. And that would be a shame.

OP, i would suck your dick.
D: POOR DAVEEEEE.
WHY'D HE HAVE TO GOOO?!

BUMPING

make it a movie!