Foreword: The following story you are about to read was not created by me, but by City off the Dead. I have received permission from its creator to place it here. The best writers of Umbrella-inc.com gathered to create this fantastic ongoing fiction.
We do not own Resident Evil or its characters. Names or words that you see before some paragraphs such as Joker (Ryan Bartlett), City of the Dead (Jarred Orr), Jill Valentine (Vanessa Jade-Rose Williams), Claire Redfield (Samantha Winsor), Carlos Oliveira (Nathan Law), Hypnos P-Type (J. Paul de Vrijer), Ark Thompson (Shawn), Dr. William Birkin (David Sunderland), Shadow (John Russo), Infinity-X (Alexandra Temple), and Dante (Dwayne Summers) are the people who wrote that part of the story, including their character which is in parenthesis. Some characters are never seen again and/or some names (from above) you might not see frequently (due to quitting or they didn't have the time).
The following story(ies) were reviewed by me and I only made a few changes (spelling, capitalization, italics, un-censoring, word changes such as there to their and so on, etc.). If you notice something is wrong, damn my computer then. Any questions, comments, etc. you can write in the review section.
Since this story was incredibly long, I broke it up into chapters.
BioMutation
City of the Dead
November 22, 2001
5:45 P.M.
Warren High School, lobby
The lobby was a grand display of classic architecture, a warehouse sized room crafted out of Marble and oak, it had been renovated a lot throughout the years, but still hadn't managed to lose its splendor. A stone trophy case sat directly in the center of the room, housing several gold trophies and awards. The wall lamps, the lights that shown on the trophy case, and the windows provided what little light the room had. A wide concrete stairwell lead up to the second floor landing, which, like the floor below it, had doors leading to the school's major hallways.
Jarred Orr sat atop the stairwell, J. Paul de Vrijer and Vanessa Jade-Rose Williams walked around the first floor. Jarred ran into the two about half an hour ago while wandering the halls. He knew who they were, he had talked to Paul on several occasions during study hall, mostly about explosives and weapons, and he always had a little crush on Vanessa. All in all, for the first time in his life, he was glad he wasn't alone.
"We need to get out of here" Paul said out loud, his voice echoing throughout the massive room.
"Yeah, but how? We can't just head outside unarmed, its going to be night soon" Jarred said from atop the stairs.
"Do you think that there is anyone left?" Vanessa asked Paul.
"I....I....I don't know" Paul said.
Paul rubbed his hand through his spiked black hair, trying to think of what to do, he had never seen anything like this before, zombies, what the hell do you do when the people you see everyday turn into mindless, blood-thirsty zombies? The thought of it still sounded silly.
Zombies, why not bring out the vampires, witches, and gremlins?
Vanessa leaned against the trophy case, trying not to think about the horrible things she had seen in the past twenty-four hours, tried not to think about Mr. Henderson and the way he tore into that receptionist, feasting on her flesh as she screamed in pain.
She pulled out a hair band and tied her long auburn hair back in a ponytail, it kept getting in her eyes, and in a situation like this, she needed to be aware of everything.
"Hey, I've got an idea" Jarred abruptly yelled, startling both Paul and Vanessa "The campus cop security room, I've been in there before" Jarred said.
"Why am I not surprised?" Vanessa jokingly yelled back.
"No, there's a weapon locker in there, maybe it still has something in it" Jarred said walking down the stairs, joining up with them. "And plus, we can check the security monitors for any other survivors" He added.
"Yeah, you're right, I've been there before as well, they probably have some pistols or something in there" Paul said.
"You guys know where this room is?" Vanessa asked.
"Yeah, its on the second floor" Jarred said to Vanessa.
"Okay, it's worth a shot" She said.
CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The indistinguishable sound of breaking glass shattered the silence of the hall, followed by the dreadful inhuman moans Jarred, Paul, and Vanessa have become very familiar with. Zombies outside had broken through the windows.
"That's our cue to leave, come on, to the second floor" Paul yelled to Jarred and Vanessa. The zombies began spilling in from the windows. Jarred hopped the stairs, skipping a step every leap, Vanessa right behind him. They made it to the landing on the second floor and ran into one of Warren's many hallways...
Jill Valentine
The eager, hungry groans from the zombies grew distant as Jarred, Paul and Vanessa leapt up onto the second floor. Hesitating on which direction to take, Jarred sharply turned in to the next hall that intersected with two others at the end of the corridor. Breathlessly, they entered the most secure room in the building; fearful of what mutation they would encounter next.
"What's happening?!" Vanessa demanded, looking at the two for answers.
"I dunno...If I knew then I'd be outta here already, without you!" Paul replied, with a slight tremble in his deep, masculine tone.
"We have to stick together guys," Jarred suddenly announced, with a sense of determination in his voice. "Don't give up hope now, we can still make it. Paul, help me move this shelf against the door, will you?"
Paul nodded, as he and Jarred, in one swift movement, pushed the shelf securely against the door, barricading the entry from the exit.
"What's that over there?"Paul asked, peering over into the small opening that stood within center of the surrounding walls. It appeared to be some sort of opening that enabled people to transport certain objects from floor to floor. In the hole, there lay a stable slice of pinewood, firmly gripped by a thick rope, which seemed to have been held up from the top floor, channeled by a lining of aluminum. It looked stable enough to hold heavy objects as large as 100 pounds.
"It looks like some sort of laundry chute...do you think one of you could fit in there?" Jarred asked, closely examining the opening.
Both Paul and Jarred turned to Vanessa, realizing that in all sense, with her petite frame, she was the only one who was able to fit in there.
"Oh..no I am not going in there!" Vanessa cried, walking towards the exit.
"Vanessa, please, it's the only safe way up onto the third floor!" Jarred pleaded, pulling her back towards the laundry chute.
"He assures you it's safe...and if it breaks...well.. Not like I care but you had a nice life right?" Paul joked, as a mischievous grin slid across his face.
Vanessa narrowed her eyes into an evil glare, not amused at his smart-ass comments.
"Jerk..." she muttered. "Ok I will do it..but what exactly do you want me to do?"
Jarred paused, thinking briefly of a plan that would work well enough to get them out of there safely.
"When you get to the third floor, I want you to find any survivors, and bring them to the mathematics department, which is the third room on the left. When you get there, you will see a large metal door, and that's where the bomb shelter is held."
Vanessa stood silently, feeling extremely cautious of his plan, and whether or not it's success was guaranteed, it was all up to her.
"But how will I contact you? And how am I going to protect myself against those..things?"
Jarred reached into his schoolbag, and pulled out a small cell phone from the front pocket.
"I have mine, and.. you have yours?" He asked, seeing Vanessa pull hers from the top of her skirt.
"And for weapons," Paul announced, handing her a rather large knife, which he grabbed from a small, neat collection from his bag.
"You can use this. It's hell awesome, it'll slice their fingers off and everything!"
Vanessa sighed with relief, as she took the knife gently sliding the handle into the top of her skirt.
"You want my mobile number Jarred?" She asked, stepping closer to the small dark opening which channeled through the center the wall.
"I already have it.." He replied, hearing Paul roar with laughter. "And I will call you in another 10 minutes ok. Just remember to keep an eye out, look for any survivors, and stay away from any strange creatures, got it?"
Vanessa nodded slowly, as she climbed up onto the wooden platform, ready to move up to the next floor.
"ENJOY THE RIDE! DON'T DIE ON THE WAY!" Paul yelled in excitement.
"I will," she quietly muttered to herself. "don't you worry..."
Carlos Oliveira
"This fuckin' sucks" thought Nathan as he paced around the small office in the gym. "Almost graduation day and wham! night of the living dead" he thought again. Things were going so well until he caught his girlfriend Lina cheating on him, then everything went to hell. Again a tear slid down one cheek as he remembered having to put his father down. How he begged and pleaded through tears for his father not to ask him to do it. His Dad was C.I.A. and had moved there recently and brought Nathan down with him after him mother died.
"Why!?! Dad! Why'd you have to do it. You shouldn't have tried to stop them Dad. Why?!?" Nathan screamed through tears. If his father had only left with him when they had the chance, but no. His father said they should be armed. Having practiced enough with his father, Nathan knew the ins and outs of almost any gun. And the solid weight of the 9mm he now held in his trembling hands did nothing to calm him down. First his mother, now his dad, what did he do to deserve this.
Son. I know your scared but com' on now. It's time to help out boy. There are others in here without any protection, you should try to help son.
"No." Nathan replied to the voice.
Nathan Law! I raised you better then this. Stop it now! Your 18 not 12, your a man for Christ's sake! Get to it now Son!!
"Yes Sir!" he answered not knowing he did so out loud.
Nathan carefully let his fathers training take over and found the calm center within himself, and cautiously opened the door. In front of him was the scattered remains of the survivors who had made it here only to parish when and infected couple turned. Swiftly he ran towards the door to the hallway. It was time to get outta here and take as many people with him as he could.
"When I get outta here, I'm going back to Canada! Nothin' freaky ever happens there."
And with that said he slipped out into the hallway and into the darkness,....into a place that felt like,.....home.
Hypnos P-type
"Ehmmm...I don't want to be irritating or anything, but if Jill just went up to the third floor and that's the only way up there...how are the survivors ever gonna get to the second floor" Paul asked, smiling, being pleased of his ability of observation.
"Well...actually...I hadn't thought of th-.." Jarred couldn't finish his sentence because some noise interrupted him. The sound seemed to come from further down the hall.
Paul grabbed another knife out of his sleeve like he was a magician and walked further into the half dark hallway. Jarred followed him, grabbing his Cell phone incase they got in trouble.
"Hello? Is anyone alive there? And I do mean alive...If you are a zombie you may skip this question" Paul said into the darkness, he thought it was pretty funny. Jarred faked a smile.
Suddenly a figure stumbled from around the corner..a female figure. "Help me!" The figure said as it reached out her hand towards the duo, almost grabbing Paul's neck. Paul quickly sliced at the hand, cutting it badly. He then kicked the figure and jumped on it. Jarred tried to stop him as the figure didn't look like a zombie to him at all....It looked more like his wounded Biology teacher!! Paul held his hands up high and plunged the knife into her chest: "That's for messing with me! Die zombie die!!".
Mrs VanWood opened her eyes for the last time, she had been damaged because of a gun-toting madman running around the school, and she thought she would be save with these two kids...instead it became her demise.
Paul pulled the knife out again...realizing that he just killed a human being...not a zombie.
"OHH MY GOD!!" Jarred screamed, pressing on the chest wound: "Help me you idiot!!"
"Hold your cool...I know I just made a mistake...but if we didn't find her then she would have probably been eaten by zombies ... off course I am saddened but not in time like this ... people make mistakes you know ... I once...etc" Paul kept ranting on because of the shock, he tried not to care, but inside he was filled with fear.
Jarred kept saying "OMG, OMG!" while pressing on the wound, but the bleeding wouldn't stop. Paul patted him on the shoulder: ""Jarred...I might have failed Biology...but she is pretty dead my friend".
Jarred pushed his arm away:"Bastard! You killed her!!". Jarred released his grip from VanWood's corpse, the idea of holding a dead body sickened him. Jarred stood up: "Let's promise never to mention this to anyone!"
Paul nodded the exact same moment Jarred's cell phone rang. It was Vanessa.
Shadow
John: You have no idea where the hell your going do you, Brian?!
Brian: Shut up, I know exactly where it is...
John: Whatever, dude...where are we going again anyway?
Brian: We're going to the campus cop security room, dumbass.
John: You're sure it was on the 3rd floor right?
Brian: Almost positive.
John: Almost?*John's voice begins to get shaky* What do you mean almost?! You understand the situation we're in don't you?
We're in a building packed with zombies who knows what else!!
Brian: No shit, Sherlock. But if we don't keep our cool, we'll never get outta here alive.
*CRASH*
The sound of breaking glass was heard from down the hall.
*John and Brian stood frozen in the hallway, eyes wide open and arms and legs stiff*
John: Where are you going...?
Brian: Somebody could be in trouble, we should check it out...I guess.
John: What the hell are you talking about? Who gives a shit?
Brian: Fine...stay here then...I'll check it out...
*Brian disappeared into the hallway*
John: *not in a confidence voice*Brian...wait up!
*Brian came running down the hall nearly knocking over John*
Brian: Holy shit dude, run, she's dead, she's dead!!
John: *eyes widened* Who's dead, what's wrong, Brian wait!!
*Brian and John went for the staircase leading back down*
John: What's...wrong...who's dead?
Brian: Miss...miss...Miss Wilson...she's dead man...her eyes...they were gone, and her body...it *holding back tears*...it was horrible. We have to get out of here, that's not gonna happen to me!
John: Miss Wilson...was she a zombie? Is that what we're running from?! Brian...is that what we're run...
*Brian went down a different hallway*
Brian: Where are you going, its this way, hurry up, they're probably right behind us!
*John swung around the corner chasing after Brian*
John: ((He just said "they" didn't he?)) What's after us Bri?
Brian: It's...it's, this big flock of black birds, at first I thought they were just normal birds, but then one flung her eye up like a grape and swallowed it down...
John: We...we have to get outta here.*looking back john saw something...or some things...they were following them...and they were closing in*
Brian: There's the door, hurry up they're right behind us!
*Brian got to the door first*
Brian looked back at John...John knew what was wrong when he saw the look on Brian's face
Brian: Its...locked, its fuckin' locked!
John: No...it cant be! *John turned the knob*
*Clank, Clank*
It was locked alright and now the birds were right down the hall.
John: Shit I see them...FUCK, they must've locked the door after we came up, we should've never tried this...
Brian: We're dead...aren't, we?
John: ....
Brian: I don't wanna die! Not like this...how much is it gonna hurt?!
The birds were now inches away. Both John and Brian closed there eyes. Huh? Nothing happened? The birds were flying in one place, like humming birds...staring at them. The one big bird, looked at Brian and john...like a buffet table, deciding where to start.
*CAW, CAW, CAW*
The big bird screamed, and the rest followed, again moving forward.
Brian: Duck, if we can avoid them we can run around!
*the birds had their beaks open...ready to dig in.
Brian: ...NOW!!!
They both dived down, avoiding the birds. They ran the way they came...
John: What now...run to another dead end?
They both looked at each other..."Dead"...is that the way they would end up...like Miss Wilson?
Brian: The elevator?
John: Is it working?...I doubt it..
Brian: Its either that...or die...which one?
John: *sighing* Lets go...
They ran down the hall, yet again...but this time...
Brian: Whoa...!
Brian was sliding on something...not a liquid...he was sliding on an object.
He looked down...it was a hand...Miss Wilson's hand most likely.
Brian fell...he fell hard.
Brian: ....
John noticed he was now running alone. He looked back and saw Brian...in a pool of blood.
John: Brian?! Brian get up, I'm not going back, man hurry up and get up....damnit!
John went back, and flipped Brian over. His forehead was split open...blood was pouring out. The birds were closing in again.
John: No...Brian, c'mon I'll help ya bud!
John lifted Brian, onto his shoulder. The birds got even closer. He knew what he had to do. He looked at Brian, now pouring blood all over him. He let go. He let go and kept running. He didn't say a word, he just let go and ran. He heard the cawing again...almost like a sign of celebration. He looked back...the big bird seemed to be grinning...no wait...it was a finger, Brian's finger. That was it...Brian was gone, his lifetime friend...ripped apart, by a couple of birds...bastards.
John: Brian...I'm sorry...but I promise, I'll get out of here...
John saw the elevator...the light was on, it worked. Blood was and guts and even a large slash covered the door...but it worked. John noticed one last thing before jumping in...a map, he ripped it off the wall...well half of it anyway, the other half remained on the wall. He was too scared to go back...even thought the birds were "busy".
*on the elevator*
John pressed the button marled "1st floor"
He looked at the map...he noticed something.
It said...
2nd Floor
"Campus Cop Security Room"
John pressed the "2nd Floor button"
John: ....Sorry...Brian...
Claire Redfield
Winsor continued to read The Complete Tales Of Edgar Allan Poe from the top of a book shelf in the library. She lifted her head up every now and then to look around and continued to read.
"The world's going to hell and I'm stuck in school," she muttered. She sighed and took another look at the door. Boards covered the solid glass doors. One of the teachers had ran into the room bleeding and screaming. The teacher had hardly noticed her. She was just reading and the teacher was asking her stupid questions. "What are you doing here?" and "Where are your parents?" and "Do you know what's happening?"
Yup. Those are pretty stupid questions. And I said "I am waiting for the world to end in the comfort of my sanctuary and I know what's happening. I just don't really give a damn."
As for her parents, though, that was a painful answer. They were dead. They died when she was little and was shipped to an orphanage. Then she started to run away. She ran away from different houses and different "parents".
"And yet I'm still here," she said sadly. She was someone who wanted answers and wanted someone to ask questions. She would love that. She loved to learn and to teach. And she was definitely learning now.
Like those zombies. Something is weird about them. Like Mrs. Holmes as she was "changing." Speaking of which, where the hell is she?
As if on cue, a gurgle-like moan came from the opposite book shelf that she was on. She was on top of a book shelf that was by the wall. She watched as two arms appeared on the floor, gripping the carpet. Mrs. Holmes came into view. Her mouth and face emotionless as drool dripped out of her mouth. She let out another pitiful moan and continued to crawl toward the book shelf which she was on. The teacher had lost her glasses and the back of her white blouse was soaked with blood.
Winsor instinctively reached for the metal bat by her black pant legs. She had found it in the locker room before heading toward the library. She hadn't seen any other survivors in the school nor the zombies. But she did see the creatures from one of the windows.
"Just like the movies. Slow and dumb, but determined to find a meal," she said, remembering the man that was outside and the zombies got to him. He was being killed and she ignored his screams, continued with her reading like nothing was happening. And then Mrs. Holmes came in and she helped put up the pathetic barricade on the door.
"You complained that you started to feel sick and then you lunged for me. You wanted me to die with you, but Mr. Bat met your spine. That shut you the hell up."
The zombie continued to crawl to her book shelf, leaving a bloody trail behind her.
"But there has to be other survivors. I heard footsteps before. I heard a window brake. Damn this school's glass doors."
She looked up, tired of waiting. She was getting out of here. A vent was above her and she smiled. She took her hands and started to pull on the vent latch. The door opened and she slowly rose up into the vent. She pushed her bookbag inside along with her bat and finally herself.
"Hmm, algebra was never my best subject so tell me this. If a book shelf leans 35 degrees to the right and there is about 300 pounds of books on the shelf, what is the acceleration rate of the books killing you?"
She took her bat and slid it behind the back of the book shelf and pushed on it. The book shelf started to lean and fell. Mrs. Holmes let out another moan and the book shelf crushed her, bringing the book shelf right next to it to the ground as well.
She quickly moved back into the vent, cursing to herself for no reason at all as she crawled on all fours through the metal surroundings. Her steps and voice echoed through the vent, only giving her a feeling of hope that she would survive.
Ark Thompson
The soft metallic beat repeating sounded within the melody of such a slow song from Modest Mouse called "Dramamine". The headphones were placed upon his dirty-blonde cranium, and he sat at a desk with his face down into the carvings of a maker from the previous days of the week. Mr. Ford should die. Etched deeply into the wooded surface of the desk. Yes, they did get their wish. Mr. Ford was still in the room alright.
Mr. Ford, lifelessly, sinking in his leather chair in front of the class room. His eyes rolling further into the back of his head and those yellow teeth were showing from the massive opening of his jaw. Each finger gripping into the plastic arm rest, struggling for the life he once lost a couple of hours ago.
Damn your Advanced Mathematics to hell. Shawn mumbled, pulling himself up into the chair. His right hand soon had come up to shift the headphones above his highlighted, slick, blonde strands. His head turned from the emotionless stare back at the dead teacher, and upon his acoustic Schecter that laid within his guitar pack. Blinking his glance back into the opposite direction, his attention went from distant to musical chords, as his fingers rolled up into a pattern, playing the song invisibly.
He stood up from the chair finally, pounding his palms into the crumbling desk before him, attempting to stand up. I brought too much. Only for a early year's end. The skateboard was slammed by his right heel at the backside, erectly moving up so that his hands to grasp at the front of it, placing it underneath his arm and to the side of his chest. Cradling underneath the thick fleece from the world's populous store, American Eagle, with a hint of GAP shirts underneath. Baggy, cargo pants adorned his legs to where the ends flopped slightly overtop his sneakers.
The quicker beat of the proceeding song on the list rumbled in his ears. His favorite song made him smile as things would pass through his mind. Little was he afraid, but as well, alert. His free hand rolled over the pocket knife within his pant leg. He grinned, heading toward the door of the well-lit room. Hazel oculus studied his moment's reflection into the small window of the door. He just stared at himself as the song was coming to an end finally. A left hand jerked the headphones from his head and pushed them down, hugging at his neck.
Now, looking through his mirrored self, an eyeing of some figure within the shadows walked by, almost stumbling off its own feet. Swallowing lightly, he blinked away, hoping this was some kind of joke. Second floors are impossible to be treaded upon with the living dead.. no.. this did not happen in Dawn of the Dead. Heaving a hold at his guitar bag and a shoulder into the door to open it, a clash of undistinguishable sounds erupted from behind. He gasped, without looking back, he feared for his life and went down the darkened halls of the school upon the second floor. Nodding, he thought once more of story advantages. Next one up shouldn't have any of the dead ...?
He located the stairs from a nearby door and ascended up the numerous steps to where he could push through the next door. He heard someone's voice somewhere on the floor. Couldn't be noticeable, yet. Walking down the halls, the flats of his shoes tapped over the shiny, tiled grounds. Timid to speak up for himself. "H-hello?"
Joker
Standing beside the door to the science department was a solitary figure, desperately trying to control his heart rate and, more importantly, the sheer fear he was experiencing. That figure was Ryan Bartlett.
He had just been sitting quietly, waiting for Mr. Rutherford to ask where his physics homework was. It wasn't that bad, he just had to think of yet another excuse. He had trouble in the family, but Rutherford was such a hard-ass about work that he'd never get away with that.
"So, let's see... who is yet to present their homework? Ryan Bartlett? Where's your Kinetic Theory work?"
Ryan looked up at Mr. Rutherford. An unremarkable man, so uncharismatic that Ryan wondered how his parents were influenced to conceive him. "Perhaps they were forced to screw at gunpoint...", Ryan thought to himself, trying to stifle his laughter.
"Oh, you've 'forgotten' again, haven't you?", Mr. Rutherford said with a smirk. "Well, I guess I'll be seeing you at recess. Er, let's see... Michelle Callaway, where's yours?"
Michelle got up and wandered to the front of the class. She must have still been drunk from the party she went to last night, stumbling up with the grace of a crude waterfowl (actually, the waterfowl probably would have been more graceful).
"Your homework, young lady?", Mr. Rutherford said with a smile, extending his hand.
Michelle accepted the invitation by chomping off several digits from his hand.
"AGH! What the hell are you doing?!?", the teacher screamed. The rest of the class looked on in awe. This was indeed something completely different.
Ms. Callaway continued to bite at the leathery old buffoon until she finally ripped out his intestines, spraying blood on the front row of the class, on the floor, on her face.
Ryan was shocked. This didn't happen. Not here. Not in a school. Hell, this didn't happen in life! It happened on the silver screen, for Christ's sake! But, as real as the glass bottle Ryan grabbed and broke on one of the work benches, Michelle was devouring his physics teacher. One that had now tired of Mr. Rutherford's flesh and was starting to pursue... younger... blood.
As students ran out the door, except for a few paralyzed by fear, she started toward the closest meal...
...Ryan.
After some hesitation, Ryan shoved the broken bottle into Michelle's abdomen. She barely flinched as she started to grab his arm. With the speed of movement that is only generated by fear, Ryan withdrew the bottle and rammed it hard into her skull.
Stumbling backward, Michelle fell onto her back, twitching. To ensure she didn't get back up, Ryan started stomping the bottle down, eventually piercing the brain with its many jagged edges.
The overwhelming surge of panic started to leave Ryan until he heard the screams and moans outside.
Looking out the window in the door, he could see many of his classmates had not made it past the hall as faculty staff and student alike were tearing them apart. Their agonized screams sent a chill down Ryan's spine.
"Oh, God... Oh, God... what the hell did we do to deserve this? Nobody deserves this!", Ryan whispered to himself. If the magnitude of the situation hadn't settled in before, it was starting to now.
Now, the screams and moans had subsided. There was only an eerie silence in the halls. The only difference between how they were before and how they were now was the many corpses strewn about, all mutilated, desecrated and defiled.
"I can't just stay here forever... I have to get out of here. I wonder who else, if anyone, survived this..."
It was then Ryan heard a shuffling behind him. Turning, Ryan noticed that Mr. Rutherford, despite a gaping hole in his chest, was now walking (or shuffling, at least) towards him. "Nobody deserves this, nobody deserves this...", Ryan kept telling himself as he searched for something to end the unholy Rutherford's reanimation.
Grabbing a fire extinguisher, Ryan's off-beat sense of humor came back to him.
"You'll be happy to know I did do some Kinetic Theory work. I learned that what comes up...", Ryan said as he raised the fire extinguisher..
"...must come down!"
The sound of the fire extinguisher being swung into Mr. Rutherford's face was a sickeningly wet crunch, instantly felling him. Ryan couldn't help but feel a little better after his little joke. After all, in troubled times, that was about the only thing that kept him going.
Satisfied that he had given his teacher some form of salvation, Ryan decided now would be a good time to make his leave.
Peering out into the hallway, Ryan couldn't see anything out of the ordinary... except for the corpses of people he had seen alive and breathing just this morning.
Deciding on a direction, Ryan started on his exodus, hoping he could at least find someone else alive in this mess. It was so much easier to be scared if you were alone...