The resounding echo of the bullet lingers in his head, despite the fact that it had been fired, striking a groaning mass in the chest. The zombie staggers back, but doesn’t appear to be bothered more than that. Gottlieb looks around himself, watching the shadows creep and crawl with many silhouettes that drag themselves along the metal corridors as things that shamble.
Goblins and slimes are one thing, but this is just… kind of dark.
– Something moans behind him and Gottlieb spins around, smashing the butt of the rifle into an oddly wet face.
| (Gottlieb) has struck (Zombie) with his [Rifle] for {04} damage! |
There is a crack and the thing that had tried to attack him from behind shudders and falls to the ground. An eye opens again, looking up at him just in time as Gottlieb presses the barrel of the stun rifle against its eye-socket.
He looks down at the name-tag on the creature’s shirt.
Alderich.
Gottlieb narrows his eyes, remembering the junior officer. He was known on the station for ruining the prank they had played against a newcomer once by letting him know what was going on. Everyone hated him after that. Nobody likes a nark. “You shoulda kept quiet.”
Another shot rings out throughout the corridor.
| (Gottlieb) has killed [Zombie] |
| + 30 EXP |
Gottlieb moves, lifting his gaze towards the blue lights that streak past his vision, watching him carefully. Why the hell are there zombies on the station? If monsters are spawning here, like slimes and goblins, then are these zombies doing this too? Gottlieb rounds a corner, stumbling back as something grabs him from the front, drooling and growling as it ambles his way, its old, soggy hands grabbing his shirt as it tries to bite him.
| Status: [Grappled] applied to (Gottlieb) |
Gottlieb pushes it back, ripping a wrist off of himself and throws the monster to the floor.
| (Gottlieb) has freed himself from status [Grappled] |
He’s never learned to fight. So he’s a little surprised at his ability, until he remembers.
“Oh yeah,” says Gottlieb, watching the undead fall against the ground and start to get back up. “I’m strong as fuck.”
He lifts a boot, stomping down on its head a few times. Not enough to be confident that the job is done. But enough times that he is confident that he can get away from the horde of them, leaking out of the doors and the end of the corridor, heading his way.
| (Gottlieb) has stomped [Zombie]’s head for {18} damage! {Critical!} |
| (Gottlieb) has killed [Zombie] |
| + 30 EXP |
Kai often likes to omit an odd detail here or there, which is fair enough. It is limited in its methods of communication, after all. But a horde of zombies aboard the station really does feel like a detail that should have been mentioned. Gottlieb runs, trying to think of a plan.
Why the crew, though? The goblin and the slimes have been ‘new’ monsters. But the zombies are his old crew mates, resurrected from the dead.
Of course, he had never known for sure that they were really dead. After all, maybe he had just been transported to an alternate universe together with a copy of the station. Hell, maybe he is a copy of Gottlieb and the real Gottlieb and the real station are back ‘home’, where they belong. But it seems that he is, for better or worse, the real Gottlieb. This is the real station and these zombies –
Something grabs his ankle, a hand reaching out of a shaft. Gottlieb stumbles and falls, catching himself. He kicks back, breaking its nose. It lets go.
– These zombies are the real crew of the orbital weapon’s platform. All forty-six of them, by the looks of things. Forty-four now, assuming he had really ‘killed’ those first two.
Gottlieb gets up and keeps running. He can bash some skulls in for sure, especially if he uses a pipe or something. But over forty zombies at once is a lot to deal with in such a tight space. One mess up, and he’s done for. They’ll swarm him.
He needs, and has, a better plan.
Gottlieb runs the long way around the station, moving to the airlock, listening to the hungry cries coming from behind himself, echoing around the metal corridors as if they were right on top of him.
| [Azimuth] |
Azimuth sits in darkness.
A light begins to flicker outside, as the soldiers begin to set up a small fire. She turns her head, looking towards it and then out of the window, up to where the sun ought to be.
It had started when she was a girl. It was only once, when the sun went dark and it was only for a moment.
Then it stopped. People thought it odd, but no odder than any other quirk of the universe. Nobody knows why it did so, or why it does now.
But then, as she grew older, the flickers intensified. Before she turned ten, there was only the one. By the time she was twelve, there had been at least a dozen more. Now, many years after that, they happen so regularly that she doesn’t count any more.
Instead, she counts for how long the light stays out.
It was never for more than a second back then, just a flimmer.
But now, sometimes, it stays out for minutes, for hours and in those cases, the cold comes with the darkness. It gets so cold, so fast.
And the longer it stays out, the more everyone must resist the temptation to ask; what happens if this time, the light just… doesn’t come back?
She doesn't want to think about it. But that’s why chickens are good. Chickens eat bugs, which can live in the dark. So if there are bugs, the chickens can eat those and then they can eat the chickens and the eggs. Plus chicken-down is a little smelly, but it’ll keep you warm.
And most importantly, they make funny noises.
Humor will be very important if that darkness is really to come.
– Several of the priests start praying loudly outside in a circle.
It will be very important.
| [Gottlieb] |
Gottlieb presses his foot into the suit, hobbling on as he tries to pull himself into it without stopping for too long. The zombies pursue him as he runs towards the first airlock. “Kai!” calls Gottlieb, looking up at the blue light above his head. The door slides open. Gottlieb pulls the suit up to his chest, running inside. He puts the helmet on, adjusting it as he heads to the second door. It slides open.
Gottlieb turns around as he runs, looking at the mass of hollow faces behind himself.
These are people who he had spent close to a year together with. He ate with them, slept in the same cryo-pods as them. They all shared a mass of recycled, farty, assy space air that had all individually processed in their bodies in much the same way as the station’s filters. In a sense, they have a bond that none on the surface-world could ever understand.
To see them like this is…
Somewhat mildly bothersome. Maybe a little annoying. Eh. It is what it is.
Gottlieb thuds against the third door that has remained closed.
He lifts his head, looking up at the blue light above himself. “Kai!” calls Gottlieb. “Open the door!”
Kai does not respond.
The airlock fills up as the undead pour in, their hungry groaning overpowering the noisiest humming of the station, which becomes inaudible. “Kai!” Gottlieb hammers against the airlock, looking over his shoulder. He’s stuck in the tube at a dead end. Reaching, rotting fingers press out towards him. Hundreds of foul teeth show as they call for him.
Their breath smells like ass. He has the helmet on, so he can’t actually smell it. But he knows.
“KAI!”
Kai does not respond.
– But the door does open.
Gottlieb is sucked out, the airlock not having been cycled. He spirals head over foot, floating through space in a terrifying moment as he thinks he’s going to leave the station entirely.
| [SEAL INTACT] |
| Oxygen: 29:59 |
His hand grabs hold of a thick, heavy cable that is attached to the gun. Despite being sucked out into the void, the zombies keep reaching for him, not in the hopes to hold on to anything, but simply out of animal hunger.
Gottlieb presses himself against the orbital cannon. It’s more beautiful than ever.
He lays there, watching the spectacle as, presumably, forty-six once-people float past him.
He looks up, staring at strands of long, greasy black hair, flowing with the same midnight darkness as space itself.
Gottlieb watches Richter reach for him, snarling, her face twisted and wrong. Her eyes, empty.
He lifts the rifle.
“We should see other people.”
Gottlieb pulls the trigger, not bothering to watch her any more, as his vision turns to the side, to the gaping, empty void, to the darkness, where the sun ought to be, in the best case scenario.
Razmatazz
I am on vacation this week. I am still writing on a laptop, but I can't promise POW will be daily. Will try my best! Otherwise, streams and daily POW will continue next week. All other stories will update as scheduled meanwhile
The resounding echo of the bullet lingers in his head, despite the fact that it had been fired, striking a groaning mass in the chest. The zombie staggers back, but doesn’t appear to be bothered more than that. Gottlieb looks around himself, watching the shadows creep and crawl with many silhouettes that drag themselves along the metal corridors as things that shamble.
Goblins and slimes are one thing, but this is just… kind of dark.
– Something moans behind him and Gottlieb spins around, smashing the butt of the rifle into an oddly wet face.
| (Gottlieb) has struck (Zombie) with his [Rifle] for {04} damage! |
There is a crack and the thing that had tried to attack him from behind shudders and falls to the ground. An eye opens again, looking up at him just in time as Gottlieb presses the barrel of the stun rifle against its eye-socket.
He looks down at the name-tag on the creature’s shirt.
Alderich.
Gottlieb narrows his eyes, remembering the junior officer. He was known on the station for ruining the prank they had played against a newcomer once by letting him know what was going on. Everyone hated him after that. Nobody likes a nark. “You shoulda kept quiet.”
Another shot rings out throughout the corridor.
| (Gottlieb) has killed [Zombie] |
| + 30 EXP |
Gottlieb moves, lifting his gaze towards the blue lights that streak past his vision, watching him carefully. Why the hell are there zombies on the station? If monsters are spawning here, like slimes and goblins, then are these zombies doing this too? Gottlieb rounds a corner, stumbling back as something grabs him from the front, drooling and growling as it ambles his way, its old, soggy hands grabbing his shirt as it tries to bite him.
| Status: [Grappled] applied to (Gottlieb) |
Gottlieb pushes it back, ripping a wrist off of himself and throws the monster to the floor.
| (Gottlieb) has freed himself from status [Grappled] |
He’s never learned to fight. So he’s a little surprised at his ability, until he remembers.
“Oh yeah,” says Gottlieb, watching the undead fall against the ground and start to get back up. “I’m strong as fuck.”
He lifts a boot, stomping down on its head a few times. Not enough to be confident that the job is done. But enough times that he is confident that he can get away from the horde of them, leaking out of the doors and the end of the corridor, heading his way.
| (Gottlieb) has stomped [Zombie]’s head for {18} damage! {Critical!} |
| (Gottlieb) has killed [Zombie] |
| + 30 EXP |
Kai often likes to omit an odd detail here or there, which is fair enough. It is limited in its methods of communication, after all. But a horde of zombies aboard the station really does feel like a detail that should have been mentioned. Gottlieb runs, trying to think of a plan.
Why the crew, though? The goblin and the slimes have been ‘new’ monsters. But the zombies are his old crew mates, resurrected from the dead.
Of course, he had never known for sure that they were really dead. After all, maybe he had just been transported to an alternate universe together with a copy of the station. Hell, maybe he is a copy of Gottlieb and the real Gottlieb and the real station are back ‘home’, where they belong. But it seems that he is, for better or worse, the real Gottlieb. This is the real station and these zombies –
Something grabs his ankle, a hand reaching out of a shaft. Gottlieb stumbles and falls, catching himself. He kicks back, breaking its nose. It lets go.
– These zombies are the real crew of the orbital weapon’s platform. All forty-six of them, by the looks of things. Forty-four now, assuming he had really ‘killed’ those first two.
Gottlieb gets up and keeps running. He can bash some skulls in for sure, especially if he uses a pipe or something. But over forty zombies at once is a lot to deal with in such a tight space. One mess up, and he’s done for. They’ll swarm him.
He needs, and has, a better plan.
Gottlieb runs the long way around the station, moving to the airlock, listening to the hungry cries coming from behind himself, echoing around the metal corridors as if they were right on top of him.
| [Azimuth] |
Azimuth sits in darkness.
A light begins to flicker outside, as the soldiers begin to set up a small fire. She turns her head, looking towards it and then out of the window, up to where the sun ought to be.
It had started when she was a girl. It was only once, when the sun went dark and it was only for a moment.
Then it stopped. People thought it odd, but no odder than any other quirk of the universe. Nobody knows why it did so, or why it does now.
But then, as she grew older, the flickers intensified. Before she turned ten, there was only the one. By the time she was twelve, there had been at least a dozen more. Now, many years after that, they happen so regularly that she doesn’t count any more.
Instead, she counts for how long the light stays out.
It was never for more than a second back then, just a flimmer.
But now, sometimes, it stays out for minutes, for hours and in those cases, the cold comes with the darkness. It gets so cold, so fast.
And the longer it stays out, the more everyone must resist the temptation to ask; what happens if this time, the light just… doesn’t come back?
She doesn't want to think about it. But that’s why chickens are good. Chickens eat bugs, which can live in the dark. So if there are bugs, the chickens can eat those and then they can eat the chickens and the eggs. Plus chicken-down is a little smelly, but it’ll keep you warm.
And most importantly, they make funny noises.
Humor will be very important if that darkness is really to come.
– Several of the priests start praying loudly outside in a circle.
It will be very important.
| [Gottlieb] |
Gottlieb presses his foot into the suit, hobbling on as he tries to pull himself into it without stopping for too long. The zombies pursue him as he runs towards the first airlock. “Kai!” calls Gottlieb, looking up at the blue light above his head. The door slides open. Gottlieb pulls the suit up to his chest, running inside. He puts the helmet on, adjusting it as he heads to the second door. It slides open.
Gottlieb turns around as he runs, looking at the mass of hollow faces behind himself.
These are people who he had spent close to a year together with. He ate with them, slept in the same cryo-pods as them. They all shared a mass of recycled, farty, assy space air that had all individually processed in their bodies in much the same way as the station’s filters. In a sense, they have a bond that none on the surface-world could ever understand.
To see them like this is…
Somewhat mildly bothersome. Maybe a little annoying. Eh. It is what it is.
Gottlieb thuds against the third door that has remained closed.
He lifts his head, looking up at the blue light above himself. “Kai!” calls Gottlieb. “Open the door!”
Kai does not respond.
The airlock fills up as the undead pour in, their hungry groaning overpowering the noisiest humming of the station, which becomes inaudible. “Kai!” Gottlieb hammers against the airlock, looking over his shoulder. He’s stuck in the tube at a dead end. Reaching, rotting fingers press out towards him. Hundreds of foul teeth show as they call for him.
Their breath smells like ass. He has the helmet on, so he can’t actually smell it. But he knows.
“KAI!”
Kai does not respond.
– But the door does open.
Gottlieb is sucked out, the airlock not having been cycled. He spirals head over foot, floating through space in a terrifying moment as he thinks he’s going to leave the station entirely.
| [SEAL INTACT] |
| Oxygen: 29:59 |
His hand grabs hold of a thick, heavy cable that is attached to the gun. Despite being sucked out into the void, the zombies keep reaching for him, not in the hopes to hold on to anything, but simply out of animal hunger.
Gottlieb presses himself against the orbital cannon. It’s more beautiful than ever.
He lays there, watching the spectacle as, presumably, forty-six once-people float past him.
He looks up, staring at strands of long, greasy black hair, flowing with the same midnight darkness as space itself.
Gottlieb watches Richter reach for him, snarling, her face twisted and wrong. Her eyes, empty.
He lifts the rifle.
“We should see other people.”
Gottlieb pulls the trigger, not bothering to watch her any more, as his vision turns to the side, to the gaping, empty void, to the darkness, where the sun ought to be, in the best case scenario.
Razmatazz
I am on vacation this week. I am still writing on a laptop, but I can't promise POW will be daily. Will try my best! Otherwise, streams and daily POW will continue next week. All other stories will update as scheduled meanwhile
