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  • 13 Nov 2018
    He sat hunched over and twisted in the dimly lit basement, twisted not in body but in his mind that was filled with twisted and incoherent ramblings. He pecked away at the keyboard illuminated by only the light of the monitor, and old black and white TV sat in a corner flickering as it strained to bring in a local channel from its bent rabbit ears.The basement was unfinished with a dirt floor and a few old chairs and other things scattered about, and old beat-up couch sat against the wall and in the middle was his computer table fished from the lawn of a resident who had discarded it.Rommel or as the local kids call him The Spaz stared intently at the screen, his hooded sweater up over his head painting a sinister picture from anyone who approached him from the back. The only sound besides the clicking of the keyboard was the electronic beeps and notifications from the many windows he had open on the screen. The chat rooms, the instant messengers, Facebook, Instagram and even the long thought dead MySpace.He was a loner an outcast with few in any friends, often teased and bullied by the others boys so he retreated to this lonely decrypt basement and started to live in the online world a world where he could be anyone he chooses to be a world where he can reach out and punish the world for the mistreatment he faced on a daily basis.Suddenly his Facebook chat sprung to live and on the other end was 10 years old Justin Goodman, who thought he was speaking to Julian another ten-year-old located in Omaha, Nebraska but unknown to him his world was about to change in a horrific and drastic was because on the other end of that chat was The Spaz and he was out to create mayhem.   TO BE CONTINUED
    731 Posted by Jayson
Fiction 2,805 views Sep 20, 2015
The Dammed Don't Cry - (Intro)

It is now day four since he had been bitten on the left arm by one of them, those unholy walking dead creatures. It is also now over three years since all things went to hell and the dead started to walk again and seek the flesh of humans.

Four days ago they were set upon suddenly by two of them and in the fight he was bitten on the arm, he immediately thought it was the end of him and he almost put a bullet in his brain, he decided to wait, he did not get a fever and now four days later the bite has started to heal. The rest of the group still keeping a distance watches him suspiciously, still ready for anything.

“look, it has been 4 days and I am not sick no fever, nothing, I am either immune or something has changed and mutated over the years.” The dead had also mutated from walking rotting flesh to now something that more closely resembles a demon, we call those mutated one's hybrids. They no longer are rotting flesh but seem to be a complete diff creature, something from one of the many horror films he used to watch when there were movies, electricity and movie industry, but that is all gone.

The group now had to shift their weariness from Michael because coming through the forest was that now familiar groan as a pack of the dead seems to be heading directly towards them………..


Tags: #story  #The Dammed 

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