Friday, 15 November 2013

Destination Kingsmouth


We on?

Ok green light!

Hey guys! Skorn here again with another story about what led him here.

I just want to give a shout out to my best friend in the world, Agent H! Hi! Don't worry I've taken what you said onboard, and bumped up the security, you know, wrapped the encryption in more encryption!


So there I was, stranded in the middle of no where, but I did have my phone, and thanks to google maps it knew there was a town a short distance away.

Well, things started going down hill long before I reached the town itself.

It started with a smell, a horrid foul and fetid smell of death that alerted me to what was ahead, but I really had no idea to expect what was really there.

Before me was the opening to Kingsmouth Town, a place that read like a cross between a Steveb King novel and fucking HP Lovecraf!

From the entrance I was standing I could see what looked like the Sheriff station, a good place to start if any in finding out what the fuck happened, on top of the roof of the station was a young man, someone I'd later come to learn was named Andy.

All around this kid was a sea of dead, moving, walking, writing dead.

Fucking Zed Heads! Walkers! Rotts! I'm talking of course about Zombies, the very thing that metaphorically dragged me down this rabbit hole.

Anyway. He was doing well, had some home made dynamite and was throwing it away from the Zeds, fucking hilliarious! Watching them chase after it like a dog after a bone only to get blown into chow!

Well, i wasn't about to be an arsehole, so with my trusty pistols I helped him thin the numbers so I could make it inside the station, there they had what looked like the remaining survivors; a doc, the sheriff and a few yokels, townies they called themselves.

Things looked pretty grim for these people and HQ were still not picking up the phone, so i offered my hand in helping out with looking for missing people.

It's funny really, i I wonder how things would have turned out if I hadn't followed through with that task at that exact time, as it was then, surrounded by the Solomon Mist, on the coast of Kingsmouth, Zed Head blood staining my jacket, searching for the last of the town's reported survivors that I met her.

Every story needs someone to mix things up, to take a straightforward path and turn it on it's head and that's just what she did.

With jet black hair and eyes that pierced your soul I knew she would be trouble, but it was obvious that she was not a local or a survivor from the town, no she was like me, someone dispatched from the Company, and possibly a 'bee' as well.

And that was how I met Agent H.


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