Locks and Bolts
Chapter 3-Night on the town
"Urgh..."
Kenneth had cracked his head on a box when he'd taken a dive through the broken window frame. He didn't even know if that had been the smart thing to do. He didn't even know what was down here. He took out his lighter and clicked it open. In the faint light of the flame he could make out little. Just outlines of shaded objects. Kenneth walked around until he was sure he could feel wall and followed it around, looking for a light switch. Eventually, he felt the cheap plastic covering of what he was looking for. With his finger, he clicked the light on.
Paintings lay on the floor of the room, several with torn canvasses amongst boxes of old 50s LPs. Kenneth would hope none were original pieces, but he couldn't care. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up having his face as torn up as the 'Mona Lisa' imitation that lay at his feet. Ken stepped around it and headed for the wooden door frame ahead of him.
Another basement room, but this one was quite different. Several of the water pipes were exposed at the back of the room, broken and empty now. A projector sat on a wooden table, repeating some broken film or something. Either way, it was drenched in human blood, which covered the film as well, projecting the stale blood against the torn sheet hanging on the wall it faced. A corpse lay on the floor next to the projector, head long gone and stale blood surrounding the floor and the wound. An LP Player atop a small table was quite happily positioned in the corner of the room, monotonously playing some old, jaunty but rather irritating music.
'Funny. Reminds me of a film.'
Kenneth walked over to the door that he hoped would lead to the stairs up. It did. The old wooden stairs creaked from every step he took up, but they managed to stay standing. Ken walked through the door atop the stairs and into another room. A Kitchen. Some old broth stained the floor from overturned pots. Some random pieces of cutlery were sprawled across the floor. Another corpse sat on the floor. This one, too, was headless, a protruding snapped stump of bone glistening with blood hung from the broken neck. This one, however, was slightly different. There were several sharp puncture marks on the arms, and the stomach has been ravaged, with bits of kidney all of over the place. Pretty messy, then.
'God! Looks like this guy's dog went postal on his torso. Shit, maybe it did!'
Kenneth jumped, rather startled, as the door ahead of him creaked slowly back and forth.
'Why are you even scared!? You know it's just the window and it's nothing more. Just the wind. Just the goddamned wind.'
It continued to creak, slowly but eerily. Kenneth stepped over to it and pushed the door close.
'There! That's enough of that.'
Satisfied, he sat down at the kitchen table, just trying to get to grips with what had just happened. He needn't get to grips with the zombies, he had already gotten to grips with them when they'd tried to grip at his flesh. He pondered for awhile, wondering if the people who'd escaped the burning wreckage were still alive and, if so, where'd they be going.
'The Police Station. That was the direction they were heading in. They must think that the cops were able to turn the placer into a Bunker. Bah! It's more of an Arts & Crafts Museum then a Police Station! Still, maybe they think someone's still alive there. Hell, maybe there is. But how do I get there if I don't even know where I am?'
He took to his feet and opened the door. Just a living room. Just a dead living room. Bits of furniture and junk were piled against the door and some more trying to bar a window. Kenneth pulled back some of the garbage and looked through the window and saw something that made his eyes light up with joy.
The Kendo Gun shop.
Behind the huge glass window Kenneth could see only a few remaining weapons behind bars in cases, but Kendo probably had the key and, from the lack of damage to the store, it looked promising that he'd be alive.
Kenneth hit the Living Room window with the blunt end of the axe, being careful to push out as many shards as he could. As Kenneth prepared to pull himself out of the Window, he was sure he heard the scuffle of claws and a low growl behind him. He turned to see what was behind him, axe raised and ready. He was relatively sure what to expect.
Chapter 3-Night on the town
"Urgh..."
Kenneth had cracked his head on a box when he'd taken a dive through the broken window frame. He didn't even know if that had been the smart thing to do. He didn't even know what was down here. He took out his lighter and clicked it open. In the faint light of the flame he could make out little. Just outlines of shaded objects. Kenneth walked around until he was sure he could feel wall and followed it around, looking for a light switch. Eventually, he felt the cheap plastic covering of what he was looking for. With his finger, he clicked the light on.
Paintings lay on the floor of the room, several with torn canvasses amongst boxes of old 50s LPs. Kenneth would hope none were original pieces, but he couldn't care. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up having his face as torn up as the 'Mona Lisa' imitation that lay at his feet. Ken stepped around it and headed for the wooden door frame ahead of him.
Another basement room, but this one was quite different. Several of the water pipes were exposed at the back of the room, broken and empty now. A projector sat on a wooden table, repeating some broken film or something. Either way, it was drenched in human blood, which covered the film as well, projecting the stale blood against the torn sheet hanging on the wall it faced. A corpse lay on the floor next to the projector, head long gone and stale blood surrounding the floor and the wound. An LP Player atop a small table was quite happily positioned in the corner of the room, monotonously playing some old, jaunty but rather irritating music.
'Funny. Reminds me of a film.'
Kenneth walked over to the door that he hoped would lead to the stairs up. It did. The old wooden stairs creaked from every step he took up, but they managed to stay standing. Ken walked through the door atop the stairs and into another room. A Kitchen. Some old broth stained the floor from overturned pots. Some random pieces of cutlery were sprawled across the floor. Another corpse sat on the floor. This one, too, was headless, a protruding snapped stump of bone glistening with blood hung from the broken neck. This one, however, was slightly different. There were several sharp puncture marks on the arms, and the stomach has been ravaged, with bits of kidney all of over the place. Pretty messy, then.
'God! Looks like this guy's dog went postal on his torso. Shit, maybe it did!'
Kenneth jumped, rather startled, as the door ahead of him creaked slowly back and forth.
'Why are you even scared!? You know it's just the window and it's nothing more. Just the wind. Just the goddamned wind.'
It continued to creak, slowly but eerily. Kenneth stepped over to it and pushed the door close.
'There! That's enough of that.'
Satisfied, he sat down at the kitchen table, just trying to get to grips with what had just happened. He needn't get to grips with the zombies, he had already gotten to grips with them when they'd tried to grip at his flesh. He pondered for awhile, wondering if the people who'd escaped the burning wreckage were still alive and, if so, where'd they be going.
'The Police Station. That was the direction they were heading in. They must think that the cops were able to turn the placer into a Bunker. Bah! It's more of an Arts & Crafts Museum then a Police Station! Still, maybe they think someone's still alive there. Hell, maybe there is. But how do I get there if I don't even know where I am?'
He took to his feet and opened the door. Just a living room. Just a dead living room. Bits of furniture and junk were piled against the door and some more trying to bar a window. Kenneth pulled back some of the garbage and looked through the window and saw something that made his eyes light up with joy.
The Kendo Gun shop.
Behind the huge glass window Kenneth could see only a few remaining weapons behind bars in cases, but Kendo probably had the key and, from the lack of damage to the store, it looked promising that he'd be alive.
Kenneth hit the Living Room window with the blunt end of the axe, being careful to push out as many shards as he could. As Kenneth prepared to pull himself out of the Window, he was sure he heard the scuffle of claws and a low growl behind him. He turned to see what was behind him, axe raised and ready. He was relatively sure what to expect.