| Welcome! Please don’t mind the pterodactyl and try some of Ianto’s coffee while we take a brief tour of Torchwood-Three. You only have visitor clearance. This means you are limited to certain areas of the Hub and there are some features you can't use. Our game is currently invitation only, however we welcome visitors - retcon is optional! Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Case of the Fridays; Didn't Simon Pegg do a film about this? | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 13 2008, 04:13 AM (338 Views) | |
| Andy Davidson | Jun 13 2008, 04:13 AM Post #1 |
|
Blames The Jam
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
"Fucking hell," Andy swore into the pillow and rolled over to hit the snooze. He'd done this five or six times already this morning, and could do with another three or four before he was likely to submit and face the day. What he'd failed to notice, however, was the way his last swipe at the clock had left it perilously close to the edge of his bedside table. His hand landed on the corner of the clock and knocked it to the floor with a thud. "Shit." He sat up, picked up the clock, and then depressed the snooze button with extreme prejudice. 6:42 AM. Friday. Days until the weekend: potentially infinite. He yawned and groaned and rubbed his face with one hand whilst disentangling himself from the duvet with the other. Might as well get on with it, he thought on the way to the bathroom for his morning piss. He stubbed his toes on the doorframe and swore viciously under his breath before limping over to the toilet. Clearly, it was going to be one of those days. |
![]() |
|
| Andy Davidson | Jun 13 2008, 06:46 AM Post #2 |
|
Blames The Jam
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
He ate his breakfast (instant porridge, a banana, glass of milk) in silence. He was eating alone of course, but he'd been in a sufficiently foul humor after his morning ablutions that turning on the telly seemed like too much hassle. Nothing said Friday the 13th like cutting yourself shaving, or breaking the cap off your shower gel by dropping it in the shower. There was no point in risking a perfectly good television to bad luck. Andy scoffed at that. Since when had he believed in bad luck? He cleared away the dishes and carefully deposited the banana peel in his kitchen bin before checking his pockets. Keys, check. PDA, check. Wallet, check. Earpiece, check. One quick look around his flat to check that the lights were all off, and... There was a man in his back garden. |
![]() |
|
| Andy Davidson | Jun 13 2008, 09:12 AM Post #3 |
|
Blames The Jam
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
"Fucking drunks," Andy grumbled as he pushed through the gate. The back garden was mostly his downstairs neighbors' domain, but he couldn't imagine Ashley and Pete wanting to deal with a random trespasser first thing in the morning. The bloke didn't turn around as Andy approached. In fact, it looked like he hadn't moved at all since Andy had spotted him. He just stood in place, wavering back and forth a bit. Andy put a hand on the man's shoulder to turn him around. "Come on, mate. I don't know what you're looking at but you can't --" The man shuffled around to face him, and Andy stopped. There was blood all down his front. Loads of it, soaked through his shirt and all over his mouth, like someone had poured an abattoir bucket all over him. "Holy shit." Andy took a quick step back and raised his hands. "Tell you what. You go ahead and wait here. I'm just going to call 999 and --" The man reached out for him and began to advance, staring at Andy with dull, dead eyes. |
![]() |
|
| Andy Davidson | Jun 13 2008, 10:48 AM Post #4 |
|
Blames The Jam
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
That's a zombie, Andy, his brain told him as the (dead. dead.) man tried to grab onto him. A real, honest to fucking god zombie, Andy. Fucking Torchwood. He'd never had to deal with shit like this before Torchwood. Andy turned around and bolted through the garden gate, latching it behind him. Unless he missed his guess, that thing wouldn't be smart enough to get through. Sure enough, seconds later, it stumbled roughly against the wood. The fence creaked, but held. He sighed relief and turned toward the street where he'd parked his car the night before. "Oh hell." |
![]() |
|
| Andy Davidson | Jun 13 2008, 05:31 PM Post #5 |
|
Blames The Jam
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
There were seven of them on the street, all stumbling toward him, one shuffling, wobbling step at a time. Andy considered his options as he inserted his earpiece and tried calling Gwen. No answer. Toshiko was his second choice, then Ianto. He skipped Owen, mostly because he didn't want to deal with the line of profanity he'd earn for interrupting their doctor's sleep, or distracting him from whatever method of self-defense he'd devised. They were slow, but their ranks were growing. He spotted fifteen now. While he'd never fought zombies before, he knew full well how dangerous a mob could be. Alone and decidedly nonplussed on that point, he bolted past the monsters trying to enclose him and went in search of a weapon. |
![]() |
|
| « Previous Topic · Zombie Apocolypse · Next Topic » |





![]](http://z1.ifrm.com/static/1/pip_r.png)




6:35 AM Jul 11