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Tales from the dead [Storyline]

Discussion in 'Roleplay' started by lJuanGB, Aug 8, 2017.

Tales from the dead [Storyline]
  1. lJuanGB Platinum

    - Asa -

    The day Asa was going to die, he woke up with a noise. He was camping in the middle of the forest, but he, as always, remained watchful. As soon as he opened his eyes he reached his sword and jumped from the improvised bed, ready to spot the danger. Was it a zombie? In that case, he would not have any problem; anyone who was 26 years old and was still alive by then was an expert in zombie killing. A Pig-man? He was certainly scared of them, but it would be extraordinary to find such a threat that south. Maybe a survivor? Despite having already dealt with some, Asa was more afraid of other survivors than any other undead being. I was staring at him from the shadows, as always.

    This was not the first time I got to see him. Sadly, I was there the day he was born. He belonged to the First Generation, the first humans to be born while zombies roamed the Earth. When I got there, at that very moment when he was taking his first breath, I had to take his mother away. I wasn’t sorry for her, after all, many women die while giving birth, but I felt really somber for him, alone in a world that was about to turn into Hell on Earth. I took his father weeks ago, while he was trying to defend a human bastion called Romero. He fought as bravely as foolishly; when I took him he was still being devoured. Asa had no one to take care of him, so I expected to visit him soon.

    If I was there, seeing him get ready for a fight, it only meant one thing: I was there to take someone. When I saw a shadow come out of the thick forest, I was sure it was not a zombie. Those movements were calculated, designed to mislead a prey. I could see Asa understanding this too as he quickly made the first move, screaming the same words I had gotten used to hearing from him: “Do you need healing? I have some equipment with me as well as more than enough food, I will be happy to sha…”. An arrow flew near his face, almost tearing his left ear. It was clear he was not there to get help. Asa readied his shield and reached for his almost broken bow before starting to shoot blindly into the trees. After unloading his bow multiple times without hitting his target, he started to fear for his life. Where was he? The attacker seemed to have disappeared. Before he could finish his thoughts he heard a movement behind him and instinctively blocked with his sword a blade that was about to puncture his abdomen.

    ~ º ~

    While contemplating the sword fight, I remembered the second time I came to visit Asa. I expected to take him, but as always he seemed to escape from me at the last minute. It was an ambush. By the time he was seven years old most cities have already fallen and the roads were full of bandits who stole from farmers and basically any helpless passerby. He was accompanied by a man and a woman who had taken him under their care in the absence of any family. Asa grew up to love them as if they were his own parents. With them, he saw the world fall apart, but they always managed to make him smile. They were both farmers, with their own patch of land at the south of Huntsgrove. They were able to hardly sustain the family, but they won some extra money thanks to the father being a medic for anyone who found their small cabin. At first, it started as a job, but as things became more and more desperate, he stopped charging for his services; no one had any resource to pay him, but he was not going to deny his help.

    The adoptive father was a good man. He tried to defend his family, but these were not the type of bandits who peaceably ask for the stuff. They couldn’t care less about the fate of a poor family. Asa’s adoptive mother was the first I had to take that fateful day. She was shot and killed before Asa understood what was happening. “A warning shot” they called it. His father quickly handled them all they got, but he refused to let something go: his healing kit. He knew he had to keep it in order to remain useful; people would die if he lost it. The bandits complained and threatened him for a few confusing seconds before fleeing the road after seeing a group of zombies approaching, attracted by the young boy’s screams. Asa and his father were not fast enough, so they had to stand against the incoming threat. Using an old rusty sword, the father was able to take the four zombies while covering his son from any attack, but not without getting bitten in the process. He knew he would not last long bleeding and possibly infected, so he had to give the kid his healing kit and command him to stitch his wounds. It was an unnecessarily long and harmful process because the boy had no experience, but he managed to do a good enough work. That would be the first time Asa took a life from me.

    After parrying a clumsy flail Asa was able to strike the coup of grace. The attacker was not a skilled swordsman, and as Asa quickly understood he mainly depended on surprise attacks. He probably thought he could kill Asa before he even opened his eyes, while he was sleeping. He was very mistaken. After piercing his head to avoid the conversion, he cleaned his sword and collected his stuff. The swordfight was very noisy and would have probably attracted any zombies in a couple hundred of meters away. It was time for him to move and continue his journey. He took a long stare into the dead body, now standing where his campfire used to be, and resumed his pilgrimage. He never enjoyed killing people, but sometimes there was no choice. If I could make a balance between the people he has handled me and the people he has taken away from me, there were definitely more of the latter. However, he couldn’t help but feel bad. I, however, felt relieved that morning. I was surprisingly fond of this human.
    Ole_Byzantine and _Swipe like this.

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