Roran
The Original Nerdy Gangsta
I'm writing a short story and I need ideas. So far, all I have decided is that it will be about the zombie apocalypse and a boy's (me) survival (or eventual death) thereof.
The story begins when, after the five year anniversary of the zombifying plague, the teenager finally gives up and submits to the zombie infection, believing that it will be preferable to a life of continuing terror and violence. He finds out, to his horror, that he is immune to the zombie infection, and the zombies do not prefer the taste of his flesh after the first bite. When he makes the mistake of telling fellow survivors, he is forcibly imprisoned and made the subject of cruel experiments so that others can discover the secret to his immunity. He escapes, and he faces a new terror. The zombies, who don't prefer his flesh upon smelling it, provide protection.
There is your story. Run with it.
It feels right to me, because I came up with it. Anything that is original will be better than the standard survivalist storyline, one way or the other, because the standard survivalist storyline and all of its variations have already been done a million times.Hmm. Somehow, running with the zombies doesn't feel right, though I applaud your originality.
It would be hard to work in slaughtering the zeds with wild abandon if the protagonist knows they don't want his flesh.
The story is basically an excuse for me to write about killing zombies and guns.
Anything that is original will be better than the standard survivalist storyline, one way or the other, because the standard survivalist storyline and all of its variations have already been done a million times.
If I was gonna kill myself I think I would rather shoot myself than purposefully become infected.The story begins when, after the five year anniversary of the zombifying plague, the teenager finally gives up and submits to the zombie infection, believing that it will be preferable to a life of continuing terror and violence.
I think it is pretty sweet.CHAR Is Back
Prologue
Now
I crouched in the dark. I was bitten, I was infected. The door was barricaded. I had half of a mag left. Half a mag and a machete. The pounding on the door grew faster, the moans more frequent, the snarls louder. The barricades wouldn’t hold much longer. Somewhere out there my friends were waiting for me to call in, to tell them I was okay. I was bitten. I was infected. I stood up and faced the door. I had the pistol in my right hand and the machete in my left. I smiled the rictus grin of a man who knows he’s not making it. Let them come.
How's this for a prologue?
CHAR Is Back
Prologue
Now
I crouched in the dark. I was bitten, I was infected. The door was barricaded. I had half of a mag left. Half a mag and a machete. The pounding on the door grew faster, the moans more frequent, the snarls louder. The barricades wouldn’t hold much longer. Somewhere out there my friends were waiting for me to call in, to tell them I was okay. I was bitten. I was infected. I stood up and faced the door. I had the pistol in my right hand and the machete in my left. I smiled the rictus grin of a man who knows he’s not making it. Let them come.
How's this for a prologue?
Or a zombie apocalypse from the point of view of a doctor trying to find a cure.