Cold World (Zombie AU - Open)

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    (Zombie Apocalypse Alternate Universe - You can be any animal.)


    About

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    What You Need To Know

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    About The Virus

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    Welcome To The Doomed World.


    An American Curl has been lying around a damp crate, shivering from the cold and starvation.
    Her grass green eyes searching the area outside from the crack.
    Only God knows how long she'd last with half a loaf of bread and tuna. "Eat the bread tonight, keep the fish until tommorow." she reminds herself.


    There is a zombie who's always by her crate, it just sits there and nothing more. The American Curl does not bother it as she's too weak to fight it anyway.

    A blue pointed Ragdoll named Quentin pads by.
    He carries a knapsack around his neck, it sags behind and slows him down but it has everything he needs and by that food and a bottle of water, he'd just need to open it somehow. The sun was setting and that's when the horde of infecteds; humans and animals alike roam the streets. He needed a place to stay and that place would be the crate next to a very lazy looking zombie.

    The post was edited 1 time, last by S3LFISHMACHINE ().

    The same American Curl, Pryde, eyes the strange tom, her blue eyes no longer glinting.
    "What's he up to? I hope he can help me." she whispers to herself hopefully.
    Her gaze returns to the zombie, it looks like it is asleep. Pryde peeks out of the crate's entrance; a large crack enough to let in a cat. She meows weakly, "It's asleep."

    Quentin notices the she-cat. Though it may seem asleep he can't let his guard down.
    He pads by it as quietly as he can. Making his way to the crate he hears a moan. 'It's not sleeping.'
    He takes out a blade from the knapsack. Quentin positions the blade in his mouth, his claws won't help when it comes to the undead.
    3..
    The zombie gets on it's wobbly feet.
    2..
    Quentin braces himself. He puts his energy on his back legs.
    1..
    He pushes himself into the air, aiming the blade into the thing's forehead. The zombie stumbles back before falling completely. Quentin twists the blade before pulling it out, blood oozing out of the wound.


    He double taps the zombie to make sure it's dead, permanently. "It's dead." he announces to the American Curl she cat. Dragging the knife along with him, Quentin pads back to the crate. he pushes the knapsack into the crack and then himself. Quentin takes a few deep breaths as the adrenaline subsides.

    Pryde scoots over for her new companion. "Hello, my name's Pryde." she meows meekly, holding back a cough. Before this new Ragdoll cat could respond she adds "Do you think that the Virus might reverse? I mean will the world ever be the same?" she punctuates it with her stomach growling, something she tried hard to suppress.

    "Name's Quentin. I don't know, we may be way too far to return..But in all honesty I don't know." Quentin replies before looking at her, amused.
    "You hungry, chica? I can share with you." He smiles, "I've still got food to last a week and a half.".
    He doesn't let her reject his offer as he pulls out a few strips of bacon from his knapsack, "I'll share you my food if you share your crate, deal?" Quentin asks nudging the strips of bacon towards Pryde.

    Pryde dips her head in a gesture of gratefulness, she eats the bacon strips quickly. Pryde sighs as she looks out the crack, the red sky darkens. She gets up and saunters over to the entrance, pulling the makeshift curtain over the entrance. She pads back to her spot, lying on her belly. The only light comes from the small hole but it soon fades away too.


    Pryde beings to speak, "I suppose the only way to survive this is giving our all." she pauses, "Would you like to team up?"

    'Well I'd be damned, I though there would be all those trust oaths.' Quentin silently laughs at the thought. "Why not?" he replies calmly.

    "Great, we should scavenge for food tomorrow." she speaks as she yawns.
    "Good night Quentin." Pryde meows softly scooting over to her own spot. She lies down on a dirty old shirt.
    In a matter of minutes she fell asleep.

    Quentin never was the early sleeper.
    He kept alert throughout the night until sleep took over. He was quite surprised when a passing zombie didn't bother to peek into the crate, he thought smell was their best attribute.

    Time Skip


    The sun finds it's way back into the sky.
    After Pryde had checked out the hole for any zombies she pads out.
    "Despite this damned new world, the sun still cheers me up." Pryde sighs drinking in the sunlight.
    She sits there awaiting Quentin's awakening. Pryde notices a shadow. She silently sneaks into the crate, pulling the curtains over.

    "Mornin to you too." she returns. Pryde takes half of the food spread on the crate. "When should we start?" she awaits his response "Start scavenging." Pryde adds before he could ask.

    "Before night fall, that's for sure. We might even find a survivor." Quentin states calmly. He continues eating his share of food before tensing up. The shuffling of feet and dead moaning disturbs the quiet silence. "Stay down." he commands Pryde in a hushed tone.
    Quentin saunters over to the small hole. He sees a zombie, the same one from last night, idly standing in the alleyway. It sniffs the air and turns to look at the crate. Quentin steps back and into the darkness inside the crate.

    Pryde nodded her head, she huddle over to a corner.
    The zombie came closer it sniffed around the crate before taking a peek through the hole.
    Pryde continued to hide in the dark, she waited for Quentin for his decision. The zombie moved to the entrance and quickly snatched the makeshift curtains, light shone in the crate and they could be clearly seen.

    Quickly making a grab at the knife Quentin jumped at the zombie, who was now putting his hand in the crate, and tried to cut it's arm off. The flesh was soft and so was the bone, detaching the arm didn't take too long. The zombie pulled it's stump back. The finger's still wriggled. Quentin used his jaws to take the knife out of the arm. He clawed the infected's forehead after it poked it's head into the crack of the crate. Quentin did what needed to be done, he gripped the knife with his jaws and plunged it into the zombie's brain. Due to months of decay it went in deep into the undead monster's skull. He watched the zombie fall onto it's back. "We will have to move. This crate is not a permanent solution. We have to move quick and we need to move now." Quentin speaks while taking in deep breaths.

    Pryde nods softly as she looks at the dark red blood pooling the crate's floor. The iron smell rises. Pryde takes the knapsack, better then just letting Quentin carry it. She makes her way outside first.
    "Y-your right, we should." she said shakily.

    "Yes." Pryde replied with determination.


    -> Another Time Skip~


    The two have been walking past a couple of buildings, Pryde stops in front of a large building, food displayed behind the glass. "Quentin, food." Pryde looks at her companion.
    She trudges in ahead of him, most of the food had been wiped out. Though the chances of survivors hiding here was good.

    Quentin followed after her. "All we've got are some scraps, do you think anyone else is in here?".
    The ragdoll tom walked deeper into the building. He continued to walk around to see if anything was there, "Anyone here?" he called out.