Citizen Record for Chapel Street Survivors Community
Name- William Lyons
Age- 15 (near 16)
Gender- Male
Housing: Founder House (59 Chapel Street)
Family- *crossed out* Lost to virus.
Friends- *crossed out* Lost to virus.
Survivor Occupation- Co-founder, Co-leader
Fellow Workers- Christopher Vesper (stepfather and leader&founder)
Status- Alive, Last Alive
Pros- Archery, some gun knowledge, karate, smart, loyal, not normal by society, law abiding in times of requirement, can treat zombie apocalypse common injuries, aware, can be more mature than some young adults.
Cons- below average social skills, can be larger than life, not strong but not weak, lone wolf, not that trusting, bad melee weapon skills, can have insane and/or rage moments, does drink occasionally, will turn cannibal if teammate is burden (turn them into food so long-lasting food is conserved),
Personal code for Survival- Burdens who will die by zombies might as well be our food instead, burdens lives aren't worth risking with good group, help those who would last long, kill those who betray own group causing more negatives, only relax when necessary, help out own group first, never slack unless situation permits most, don't steal weapons or ammo (survival tools), no second chances to enemies past or present.
...
Days End in the Ended world
"It begun ages ago. I never knew I'd make it this long but I did, no matter how much I boasted I'd live. Maybe living up to the expectations I placed on myself got me this far or more likely where I placed my trust when in groups. But I proved what I said, that I'd last the longest. By the time this gets read if it does I'll have taken my life at 16. Any who find this are the owners of all my stuff including what I buried at the address 59 Chapel Street, Friar Town in the nearby town in the basement wall. It's a Scotch from me, and a sniper from a barracks I hoped to use if I hunted my treacherous cousin. Turns out he was like in pre apocalypse times, a brainless waste who relied upon my family to continue living, ruined the lives of 3 before I finished him. If you find this I want to be put 6ft under with my picture in my top pocket and a pocket watch with another picture in. Why, because I'd do the same for you. Goodbye forever, William Lyons," I finished writing in my personal journal I kept to document apocalypse life, before falling asleep.
Next Day:
I awoke the next day, in a cave. Same cave as last night, same quite, same situation life wanted me in. The murky grey of the unused cave coupled with the damp was a fitting environment for an undead survivor. The only smell I knew was alcohol from a bandage sterilised with it on my arm from a cut. Although, there was sunlight and I had been in the furthest back sub cave where sunlight wasn't possible. Maybe it was dark and I dreamt I'd been further back. So, With nothing else for me to question I set off outside, ready to live for just about one more month.
Upon leaving I saw a different landscape, it was welcoming in appearance, sound and scent. As if it was countryside unaffected by the remnants of a dead world half ravaged by unmaintained nuclear stations that suffered meltdown. Even beyond that another aspect then arrived, this was foreign territory to my mind. Not territory in the UK I not yet walked but not the UK all together. This was wrong for all possibilities, I learned to know my place before I slept. This wasn't where I lay down, it was what we'd wanted a month prior, when my family lived. I'd be broken if I'd not been broken before, it was what I expected, nature's final cruel joke, paradise with nothing I wanted in it at my core desires.
The land upon me was a field and just in sight was a farm, the land around an orchard untouched by the undead I'd come to call my predators over the course of maybe a year. With no reason not to hope they shoot on site I chose to walk the path there in hope the do. As I begun the small trek I admired the cruel but nice looking resting place life had offered me. I may be given a paradise I don't want but I still was allowed to admire the detail of what I was given. The grass in viewing showed no victimisation granted by the industrialised period that once ravaged out natural landscape. It held an originality a poet (over glorified yet was truthful in every word. In post apocalyptia I'd found utopia, but too late for my own good.
As I got close I realised, they'd not kill me in utopia, paradise had gone past killing and only relied upon agreement and equality. Maybe they'd see me as equal but for agreements I could say the way for me to see myself as equal I'd have to die. Yes, that's it, I'd have to be mercy killed. But as my being contemplated death I heard a voice, "I don't know Scootaloo. Applebloom and Nyx ended up ordered to take it easy last dangerous stunt you made us try. Either way, if it were those wouldn't we know by now, it's not like we haven't done enough."
Another responded annoyed, "Then what should we try, it's not like we haven't tried anything else before. And..."
"And what scoots?"
"Sweetie, there is something behind a tree by the entrance," replied the one called Scootaloo what was in her voice was the hint of innocent fear kids had before the undead but one thing was different. The name was so familiar with me that it soon clicked. What my mind recognised was it was a name from a show I watched 4 ½ seasons of, before the undead prematurely cancelled it. To confirm my suspicions I asked one question, "Name the types ponies that exist, before you run just do it because I could find out either way."
I'd not looked but knew they slowly backed away before the one by the name of Scootaloo stammered out, "E..earth ponies, unicorns and p...pegasi."
They had ran back down the path whilst I sat by the tree contemplating the cruelty of the universes, fate and luck to the point my mind found it comedic and left me in depressing maddening laughter. Due to the situation it wouldn't last long as self preservation kicked in. It was obvious they'd get others and I'd get as beat up as a zombie. Having basic knowledge of where I was I chose to locate an abandoned building in the orchard. One positive thought passed, "No more rations. And also, first time I'll have breakfast and not have to ask if I can afford to have it."
...
1 Hour Later-
After almost ½ hour of searching for an abandoned building on Sweet Apple Acres I'd not only found an abandoned building but one that was being demolished, probably for safety reasons. That had set me back and made me hide more but I found an old barn with very dated rusted ploughing tools in and wood rotten barrels. But what I liked most was the years of dust in it and the path to it had also been lost to nature a sure sign it was forgotten. I didn't care about the exterior and entered the now rediscovered construction.
What inside was old farming equipment reminiscent of what was in older times. But fortunately there was a 2nd level so more security for me, well... from other lifeforms. Due to recent habit and minor OCD I removed most tough things from the backpack, set down a Remington shotgun and .45 semi automatic pistol against the wall and lay to rest despite my lack of skill with close combat weapons I slept with a British Cavalry Sword nearby. The sombre appearance of the forgotten structure had reminded me of post apocalyptic home and may have let me sleep faster.
...
I awoke that day and like before it had been from a nightmare of my family being torn apart literally and figuratively by the undead. But this time I awoke back at my apocalypse home infirmary after a collision with a scouts motorbike caused my dad to veer off track and collide with what I assumed put me into here. The group doctors, ones I took by force in the first days from a ground 0 hospital and later thanked me for it, had briefly told me to allow time for extra recovery but I was able to leave.
As I left the converted house I asked a local patrol, guard who walked our fortified streets, "Is there anything you know about the hordes situation?"
She answered in response, "It hit when you were out cold. North wall looks like shit and another's on the way, probably hit tonight. Any horde over 100 or more zed and we'll have a fight on the streets and possible dead."
"And my dad said what will happen?" I asked in that tone what was similar to the one when you know they haven't done something.
I ended up walking with the patrol when it faded to the carnage that ensued and I was took down by a zombie. My stepdad, weak from the untreated cancer from just before the apocalypse, shot the zombie with the Browning Hi-Power he acquired and modified in the spare time. After I was able to get back up I saw his pistol and heard a scream of fear, shock, pain, death and unknown saddening loss. The final bullet exited the magazine and it cut to the culminating point of the day.
We sat moments after dawn, I held a revolver that could only have been illegal in a time of law, and the voice of my stepdad said, "We should give them a burial. Most zed will be gone now, and I need to give you something."
I replied, "I'll follow for once. Probably the best thing I'll have done this month. Someone could have survived last night."
After burying who we could I re-entered and grabbed the hi power and said to myself, "It's the kindest thing to do. It can't be allowed to win."
What followed was the ending of my entire family and their funeral in our garden. I then held what my stepdad had gave me, I opened the box and saw the pocket watch he found in the attic he put a picture of the full family in after repairing. I also saw a modified pistol I thought he stopped on and a few other things including a letter.
What then happened was definitely odd, somehow my dream continued and in doing so had added another possibility, a possibility for me to move. Knowing it was a dream, the act of freedom and knowing what happened was fake, at that moment terrified me yet gave me comfort. The deluded persons comfort cut away as voices of those I, the 15yr old too over his head, got killed by bad choices begun to ring across the now desolate town. The sound begun to build so I grabbed the box, quickly packed it and took off with the gun knowing I'd be limited by how much of the area I knew.
How long I'd ran was unknown but it was over an hour in the dream world, or nightmare world. I looked behind, what I'd done for the literal nightmare hour before noticing I'd not outrun my perusing undead followers. Knowing my only control was in the gun I opened all bullets onto them. All it did was conveniently give the following force land on me. The voices could now be made more clearly and one stood out clearly, echoing the words, "You could have changed it all, you only had half a day to prepare."
The six who trusted me from the outbreak neared and instead of looking as I knew them they were as I last saw them, half consumed and littered with bullets. As I surrendered my mental state to more torment and possible collapse a voice echoed through, "Leave this creature alone nightmare spawn!"
I looked up too see the forsaken six blasted away: beyond the boundaries of dream world. The source seemed to come from a distant part but I made it out to be a blue...alicorn...Princess Luna! Back when I had electricity to watch she was favourite princess for me. Funny, I always wanted to meet her but now it seemed like a sadistic deal: I met my favourite show at the cost of my family and friends lives. The elegant night princess had approached beside me and calmly asked me, "My names Luna Princess of the Night, What and whom are you?"
I answered flatly, "William Lyons, or just Will. I'm a human who really doesn't care anymore. Although I do come from another dimension it's rather horrific, and if you want to know about it I'd recommend you don't. Now, why do you help a creature who could be dangerous?"
Her reply was rather expected, "We are in a dream, there a few dangers this could pose. Also, I observed some of this flashback dream and whilst horrified was intrigued by how you still carried on even after this."
I in false smugness commented, "I'm a British citizen, the ability to carry on is basically dna at this point. It's safe to say that you will be shocked to know I'm almost 16 and that happened a year after the dead rose and I led them just at just under 15."
I knew she had some sorrow for me, on account of losing everything, but it was typical of a caring sentient lifeform. It's what led to her getting an account of what happened from then to just before now. At least it felt good, being able to shift some proverbial weight.
As the long discussion begun to close I'd started thinking less negative but remembered where I was, a land probably hostile to me, and unsure of what to do asked Luna with the nervous tone she probably expected at the start, "Princess, what should I do tomorrow? I don't think a rundown barn will do well. And if a small hunt for me happens..."
She looked at me and said before leaving, "As long as you swear not to harm anypony I'll try to see if I can meet Twilight in a dream and arrange something for now. Just stay awake, it'll be harder to move you without risk of injury in the morning. I shall try to see how you are tomorrow. Until then I bid you farewell."
...
Three AM, how nice, about over 9 hours minimum of sleep and most wasn't mind destroying nightmares of how I could have done better. I looked out at the moon knowing it would either get better or worse, but what was to destiny. All I had to do for now was enjoy the quiet of night under the welcoming pearl of the night sky. "Two months seems a fair deal. If it goes fine I'll consider longer," I said to the modified hi-power and pocket watch before grabbing my gear and getting out of the barn for actual fresh air.
