Vote Count:
[10] Vyse (Ronike, The Marsh King, Circus, Xiivi, Gheb_01, Pythag, Kataefi, frozenflame751, KevinM, Cello_Marl)
[4] Not Voting (Chaco, Mayling, Macman, mentosman8)
[1] mentosman8 (Mediocre)
[1] Ronike (McFox)
[1] Xiivi (Handorin)
[1] Mediocre (Vyse)
[0] Circus ()
[0] frozenflame751 ()
[0] KevinM ()
[0] Kataefi ()
[0] Cello_Marl ()
[0] Gheb_01 ()
[0] McFox ()
[0] Handorin ()
[0] Macman ()
[0] Pythag ()
[0] Mayling ()
[0] Chaco ()
[0] The Marsh King ()
With 18 players alive, it takes 10 to lynch. A deadline has been set for Wednesday, December 16th, Noon EST.
"What do you mean, three or four of us are still infected? That's bull****!"
"It's the truth."
"**** you is the truth."
"Oh yeah? You want to do this, big guy? You want to step to me and try to explain to me how a neuroinvasive pathogen can't create false negatives in a minute percentage of the infected population?"
"Uh..."
A group of survivors bickered below deck, unable to grasp their deadly situation. Others meditated together, some praying and some humming. A kid played with a lighter. One man complained about vests. The argument continued.
"Yeah, well you MIGHT be convincin', but I'm the ****in' pied piper!"
"You know the pied piper killed like a hundred kids, right?"
"But he didn't wake up one day and say "yo, let's go kill tons of kids." He's more of a medieval mobster. He did the town a favor, but when they didn't pay, he took them out at the knees."
"You know, I think I'm starting to like you, guy."
One man stayed silent for a long time. He looked around at the people surrounding him, wondering which of them were actually, secretly infected. He had spent the entire apocalypse up to this point being the funny guy, the optimist, the one telling jokes when zombies weren't around. But now they were here and he didn't know who they were? It was too much. He got nervous. He began to sweat. He didn't know what to say, so he clammed up.
When interrogations began, he wouldn't speak. They threatened him with death, but he just wouldn't talk.
"I should put a bullet in this walker's head, right now."
"No..." he whimpered.
"Oh, you wanna talk now? Well, talk to your buddies!"
A few men grabbed him, quickly opened the door to the boat's exterior, and shoved him out. They locked the door behind him.
Everyone waited, listening for signs of a struggle. Waiting to hear the infected mob outside the door begin tearing the man apart. Waiting for screams.
But they only heard one scream:
"KILL ALL SONS OF *****ES!"
The man happily snapped, pulling shotguns from his back and pumping spray into all the shambling braindead undead around him. For almost thirty seconds he continuously killed zombies, and the group inside began to hesitate about their decision.
"He's killing them! He's not infected!"
"It could be a ploy... we can't afford to open this door again."
"Screw you, we can! Open the god **** door and let him back in!"
They spun the door handle, and as it swung open, they saw their funnyman turn to them, grinning wildly.
"Yeah! It's all I needed! Just a little action to get my blood pumpi--" loud thump terrible scream blood everywhere on the ground squirming slashing grabbing.
The group shut the door quickly. Two of them turned to each other, wide-eyed, the image of a hunter mutilating their friend replaying in their eyes.
"When we send someone out there, it's final."
Vyse, a survivor, has been lynched.
Day 1 ends. Night 1 begins. All night actions are due in 48 hours.