Walking Brothers

WalkingBrothers: This idea came to me and my younger brother one evening after being inspired by the Dixons on Walking Dead. This story will be told from the eyes of our fictional characters: Jag (Jagaara) Kupunski and Keith Kulpunski. Keith is the older brother by three years, and Jag is the younger. Good news for you readers is that this story is also an OC accepting story! All you guys have to do is submit a character following the rubric below! As examples we used the Kulpunski brothers! Please read the examples below:

Name: Keith Kulpunski

Age: 29

Occupation: Tattoo Artist

Appearance (Initial Clothing too): Denim Jacket, jeans, shaved head with a tall, spiked, brown Mohawk, lean, tan skinned, hazel eyes, and heavily tattooed (Sleeves, torso, and neck).

Personality (Six traits): Stubborn, Physical, Hotheaded, Loud, Sarcastic, Respectful, Talkative,

Biggest Strength (Could be anything): Able to intimidate and use it to his advantage.

Biggest Weakness: Easily angered. Rage experiences around him are unpleasant.

Skills (2 max): Steady aim and a hard hitter.

Favored Weapons (Generalize): Melee weapons and rifles.

Brief Bio (2-3 Sentences): Keith was always the trouble child of the two brothers; he always led the mischievous childhood adventures and matured quickly. He took the loss of his father at age sixteen hard, and never accepted his abusive, alcoholic step dad. He eventually learned to hate his mother for remarrying and grew up to be an independent, but reliable older brother.

If the end was near and they knew it, what would they do? Fight to the last breath.

Now the younger Kulpunski Brother!

Name: Jag (Jagaara) Kulpunski

Age: 26

Occupation: Physical Trainer

Appearance (Initial Clothing too): Tall, muscular, plain black ripped sleeveless t-shirt, jeans, blue eyes, big back tattoo, short brown hair.

Personality: Quiet, Easy-going, Stubborn, Loyal, Determined, Patient, Physical

Biggest Strength (Could be anything): Great endurance and able to defuse hostile situations.

Biggest Weakness: Poor decision maker; he thinks too long before acting on his own.

Skills: Handy with machinery and overall observant.

Favored Weapons (Generalize): Melee weapons (preferably knives) and shotguns.

Brief Bio (2-3 Sentences): Stuck with his brother through thick and thin regardless of how dangerous the task. He had the hardest time with his abusive step father because of constant hazing. Today Jag still speaks to his mother but stands on his brother's side of things about her remarriage.

If the end was near and they knew it, what would they do? Try to escape at all costs.

Kulpunski Brothers: Follow the examples shown above and submit a character by private messaging! Please leave the reviews for reviews and don't submit characters there! You will be notified if your character is selected, we will be picking the ones we think best fit the story. Regardless we are accepting eight; however, if there are some epic submissions we won't hesitate to break that limit! So go ahead and submit folks, but first, the prologue to our story! This way you get a taste for how we write! Enjoy and like most writers, we love reviews!

Prologue

Jag's POV…

The woods are deathly silent as my brother and I trudge along. Most cool, fall days, are filled with the chattering of squirrels and squawking birds. Yet today, I hear nothing but the crunching of bright orange and red leaves beneath my feet.

We've been walking out in the wilderness for nearly ten hours now, ever since seven in the morning. That was when I first encountered what my brother and I have started to call 'limpers' or 'walkers'.

It was a normal day. Nothing unusual at the gym, Kevin and the usual group of guys were there lifting weights. I was working with George on some leg strengthening when we heard the knocks, except the knocks were rather odd. Instead of being repetitive, it was associated with scratching and moaning. Confused at why the guy wouldn't just open the door, Kevin went over and opened it, from there it was hell.

It wasn't one, but at least ten of the bastards that swarmed all over Kevin. They literally tore him apart and sent the gym into a frenzy of panic. I only got out because I smashed one of the windows with a hand weight; from there it was straight to the apartment. It was along the way that I realized this fucked up cannibalism was happening everywhere, so trying to be smart, my brother and I left our home town hoping to find a sanctuary somewhere. So far, we weren't having much luck.

"Man we've been walking in these fuckin' woods for hours! When we gonna see something other than trees!" My older brother's voice echoes impatiently behind me.

Stopping I turn to him and sling my pack over one shoulder. "Man, why do you have to be so loud all the time. We don't want to attract the damn things to us."

My brother allows a grin to slip on his face as he stumbles to a stop. Sometimes I worry about letting him carry weapons around, especially seeing him with the colt our dad owned. That thing isn't necessarily the newest… It could misfire at some point.

"Oh come on now Jag, you know me! I like to liven things up wherever I go. Especially seeing that world's a paradise now," he replies. His voice dripping with sarcasm as he gestures to the trees, I notice the pistol is tucked under his denim jacket against his belt.

I close my blue eyes and shake my head. "Well maybe you should try keeping it down sometime," I respond, before starting our march again. I hear him chuckle before following, his boots crashing through the leaves.

"Ya know, dad always said I didn't talk enough," Keith says after a while.

I almost stop again, but instead choose to keep walking. Night's going to fall soon, and we're out in the woods armed with only a handful of canned food, some bottled water, a pistol, and a knife that also belonged to my dad at one point. Not to mention it's going to be cold, most likely below thirty degrees…

I curse under my breath at the thought as Keith speaks behind me again, "He was always tellin' me to stand up for myself and what not."

Suddenly the ground starts to slope and I discover were moving downhill. "Careful here Keith, it's a steep hill."

"Do I look like some sort of pussy to you," I hear him reply with a laugh.

I say nothing and press on carefully down the hill, making sure not to step on a rock and trip. That could be devastating. Especially with limpers about, but we haven't seen any since we left town, so maybe it was just our hometown? Shit if I know…

Near the bottom of the hill is when I notice the large, shiny object with wheels. A RV, well what do you know. Surrounding the vehicle appears to be a small campsite, at one point it looks as if the wood in the center was a fire. Scratch that, it was, because fold out chairs are circled around the wood.

"Well look we got down there eh brother. Couple chairs, a vehicle, bet cha theirs some food and stuff in there worth takin'." I scoff at the idea; my brother was such a knuckle head sometimes. Maybe it was the ridiculous Mohawk mounted on his head.

"Just wait til' we get to the bottom," I say to him.

"Whatever you say bro, your da boss," he jokes. I ignore him and instead reach the bottom of the hill, at a closer look the RV is much larger.

I wonder… a vicious hiss interrupts my thoughts and before I know it I'm knocked on my back painfully.

Keith's POV…

I noticed the limper coming up as soon as Jag got to the bottom, but hell, it wasn't my job to warn him. He could fend for himself, I knew he could.

"Piece of shit," Jag curses as he wrestles with the smelly, blood soaked man. I watch as the zombie mounts him and attempts to bite, but my brother stops its head with his arms. "A little help," he shouts, just as two more limpers stumble out from the RV.

Well now that's my signal.

I stride over to the figures fighting on the ground and plant my boot right in the face of the zombie sitting upright on my brother, sending it sprawling to the ground. My brother then quickly pounces on it, shoving his blade deep in the once human's throat.

I pass them and start to raise my gun at the other ugly asses when my brother yells, "Don't shoot them! You'll bring in more." Lifting my head in annoyance I spin back around and face him smirking.

"Oh come on man, two gun shots ain't gonna do shit."

"You want to bet," Jag retorts, as he gets off the rotting corpse that once attacked him. I roll my eyes and spin around just in time to find the pale, red eyed female limper screeching at me with out-stretched arms.

I step back just in time and throw my fist into the side of her head, grunting from the impact as she plummets to the earth still screeching.

"Ugly bitch, let's see who's your daddy now!" With that I triumphantly begin stomping on the woman's blood matted head. Meanwhile my brother jogs past me to shove his knife into the face of the other limper. Blood pools across the leaves as both limpers now lay dead, stiller than statues.

"Their actually kind of cute ya know," I say sarcastically trying to get a rise out my brother. Somehow it fails. This is odd, because usually he's more willing to laugh at stupid shit like that. "Hey jag."

He stares down at the rotting corpse before glancing at me. His blues flash something I've never seen before. "Yeah?"

"Why you so damn quiet today? It's just like any other day," I laugh, still he stares impassively. "Oh come on, don't you see the irony in all this?" I gesture around us at the three unmoving bodies.

"No," he says simply, moving towards the RV. I glare after him before spitting on the dead woman. He just doesn't get it. We are alive, because it's our right. God chose us to live on! That's the irony, sooner or later jag will figure it out. With or without my help…

Kulpunski Brothers: Hope you guys liked it! Reviews are greatly appreciated! Oh and remember, OC submissions are to be Private Messaged pleased! Thanks for reading hope we got you hooked!