<spoiler=fullmetalangel> I'll come too you
.. oh wait.. I'm unarmed as well.
worst comes to worst we can have an emotional epic ending :3
Christian finished his preparations; his backpack was now full with the remaining provision and his lantern, his SR-98 was slung over his shoulder, his magnum was holstered by his left hand side, and the crow bar hung from a makeshift loop in his belt by his right hand side. If he could see his reflection in a mirror, he would have described the figure he cut as viciously startling. However there where no mirrors nearby, so instead he was left with his own thoughts. He had no ammo. He was about to enter streets swarming with
zombies and he had no ammo. Christian had decided that he hated zombies.
He tied the end of his rope off against the metal frame leg of the bed from the bed room, then hoisted up the bed and carried it into the room overlooking the street. It was now or never. Christian threw the rope out the window and watched it unfurl into the mist below him. His heart raced as adrenalin coursed through his veins. He hadn't felt this alive since he had started hiding in this apartment almost a month and a half ago. now he was
doing something. Hoisting his pack over his shoulders christian walked up to the window, it was a tight fit and he had to turn on his side and crouch down to fit his body through the gap, then with his right hand grasping tightly onto the rope he jumped out of the window into the nothingness beneath him.
He fell into the fog, his hands grappling to hold the rope as he shimmied down the side of the building. eventually he build himself into a comfortable motion of taking a few steps at a time, looking around his surroundings; of course all he could see was the all encompassing whiteness of the fog. then taking a few more steps. He continued on like this until he realized a fatal error in his judgment. Everything was cruising along just finely until all of a sudden the rope he was feeding to himself through his left hand ran out. Had he not been so cautious about how he approached the situation he probably would have lost his grip there and then and plummeted to the ground beneath him. But he was cautious, luckily he was cautious.
Christian now found himself in a predicament, he analyzed his instant surroundings. There was a window about a foot off to his left and a foot about his head, he could always climb back up to that and swing himself in. But he had no idea what would be waiting for him inside, and was in no position to fight against any more then a handful of zombies. There was a similar window off to his right as well, at about the same spacing. But of course, that was equally useless as that window posed exactly the same problem.
'I bet ONE of the windows lead to a room full of zombies. And the other leads to a room that's empty. I just BET you.' thought Christian to himself bitterly. He could really use a smoke right about now.
'Well, if you don't like either option A or B.. I guess you need an option C.' He mused. But what would that option C be. Christian again looked at his surroundings. How far down had he come? 3 stories? 4 stories? He REALLY should have counted the windows as he descended. THAT would have been smart. Christian was mustering his strength to climb back up towards the window he came out of, and count the number of stores he had come down when something came swooping at him out of the fog. It cawed like an enraged bird, and as it passed him it snipped at his back with its beak, rewarding itself with a mouth full of pack.
Soon Christian could head the fluttering of more birds, and more and more of there shapes constantly emerged from the fog, flying past him to peck and claw at his suspended figure only to return back to the depths of the fog from which the came. Christian tried to fight them off but it was impossible. He managed to free his left hand from the rope and hoisted out his crowbar, taking wild swings at the flocking birds, but the attacks only seemed to enrage them more, and even though he was able to beat down a handful of them; there small frames cracking and breaking against the fury of his crowbar, it seemed that for every single crow he dispatched two more came to take its place.
'I'm not going to die. NOT LIKE THIS!' thought Christian to himself. he let out a primal scream of rage and anger. Damn it, he wasn't going to let some one else have the say of how his life ended. IT WAS HIS LIFE. and damn it, if he was going to die, he was going to die the way he wanted. Returning the crowbar to its makeshift sheath Christian grabbed his last cigarette, placed it in his lips, then fumbled out his lighter. He sparked it once, twice, and finally, on the third flick the flame jumped to life before him. He held the flickering ember to the cigarette and inhaled. Life was good. Even in death life was good. Then, after returning the lighter to his dusters pocket Christian felt a profound smile come to his lips, and then slowly, as if in a trance he let go of the rope and plummeted to the nothingness beneath him.
but is he dead?!?!
