Killing in the Name

Well it's been an interesting few days. When I last posted, I was already bored with Wyke Hills after only being in town a couple days. I think boredom's thick purple tentacles managed to probe their way into my unconscious mind as that night I had a dream about another realm. I dreamed I was sleeping alone in a gun store in Valhalla and angels and demons were fighting for control of a post-apocalyptic Earth. It was here that a woman by the name of TerminalFailure murdered me with magic. This name of course had been lazing about in my subconscious for some time and I awoke, certain that I'd come into contact with this person once before. But further investigation into this matter was postponed, as during my sleep, the brother of one of my victims sought vengeance. But revives are the fastest they've ever been in Malton. So I decided to look into this matter further rather than wasting my energy searching for Josh Clark, who had a perfectly valid reason for killing me. Though I didn't really appreciate the skyting part. Regardless, I had more on my mind than just couple shells and the tingling chemicals of revivification syrum.

It wasn't until I found the real TerminalFailure in Buckley Mall, that I remembered where I'd seen him before.



It was at a revive point, after hurricaine635 murdered me. TerminalFailure is one of the CDF and has been on my hit list for some time now. I'm not certain but I think he's some sort of head scientist for their organisation. Who knows what these army boys do in their forts? He's a childish sort; recently he was stirring up some trouble with two prominent members of DORIS. This simply would not do.



I learned later that TerminalFailure had killed Tolkien Black Man for reasons unknown. I suspect it was in my place. I have a feeling he'll be bountied soon if he hasn't already.

So I retired to Club Morris where a fellow rummer stopped by to say hi. He was bountied later that night. I tried to look for his killer but to no avail. However I did find someone I'd recently become acquainted with in Lockettside. Oinkler was sitting in the upper-left corner of Buckley when I found him. I beckoned that he come closer.



And finally took care of our unfinished business.



But truely the most fun I've had this week began when I caught a renouned snitch, jesusowns, unawares in the mall.



You'll note that picture was taken by a third party, a person who goes by the name of TheDavibob. I wrangled it from the Rogue's Gallery which I've found to be a rather wonderful resource of entertainment of late.

To thank TheDavibob for posting the wonderful picture of me killing jesusowns, I stopped by Buckley yet again to give him a present.


Unfortunately he replied with hostility and chauvinism, beginning with this report where he appears to be confused about my gender. Straight up, I'm female. Just because I don't flash my breasts at every mall rat in sight, or twirl my hair and pout at every army boy in the fort, I'm certain I'm more female than most of these boys can handle. Just ask LCplHicks, Duke D'œuvre, Jay Kindle, The Dancing Banana, GioV, Suburban Ed or Tolkien Black Man. ;) Besides, most of these townies aren't exactly the most stimulating characters around, so naturally they react with spite and insults to assure themselves that their masculinity is in tact. Either that or they're simply ignorant. Hey, as much as I'd like to claim that I'm flawless, even I make mistakes every now and then. I initally thought Eugenie DeFranval was male. I was most pleased to meet her in person and find out that she is most definitely female.

I believe TheDavibob was merely the second variety, so I gave him a day to think it through. My instincts were maybe a little off as TheDavibob decided to hunt me down at Club Morris. Later on, he posted on the Rogue's Gallery about his accomplishments, again, failing to properly articulate my gender. I then faced a moral dillema. I believe that hunting down someone more than once is futile. Not only does it waste a shit load of ammunition, it also takes time to properly locate and assail one's victim a second time. I know well enough about hunting for sport. After all, many of my victims were selected for commiting an initial faux pas against me or one of my friends before a final and fatal encounter, (much like TerminalFailure, jesusowns and Oinkler though these three didn't make themselves very hard to find.) Common sense, though seemingly in short supply in Malton, is something I tend to rely on a lot. If one doesn't want to die, don't sleep in a populous resource building. If you don't want to die constantly, don't go outside to shoot zombies. If you don't want to be murdered, don't do stupid shit. And chasing down grudges is a waste of time and energy. Anyhow, I wanted to teach TheDavibob a lesson. I wasn't sure how to go about it at first, so I sat and watched him sleep in the mall. Soon I grew tired and allowed him to sleep heavily, safe and ignorant that I'd been revived.

The next day however I'd devised a most delightful plan. I headed over towards the Wyke/Buttonville border and searched the mall, Julie General, the warehouse and the fire station next to Buckley. I found him in the Knapton building. Sleeping apparently. I was still hesitant about my plan and remained alert whilest steadying my right hand to aim and my left to hold the microphone on the radio. Alas, he fled just as I was ready to shoot. Dejected I decided to head back into the mall, where I found some injured townies. I decided to leave them be for the time being and head over to the North West corner of Buckley, just to see who I could see, as I'd been having quite a bit of luck with finding people I'd been meaning to catch up with. This would have been a waste of energy usually but I think you get what you put into it though. If you make an effort to have fun, it will always find you. Kismet and Karma it seems are bountiful and kind in Malton. And in the North Western corner of Buckley Mall I found TheDavibob and began my broadcast. Fortunately, a friend had been monitoring the same station and I was able to get a copy for posterity.


After the initial broadcast I murdered Paxton Smith.

I hopped over to the North Eastern corner and resumed the broadcast.

And murdered Rugs00.

Then announced why Badass Ben had to die:



And dedicated my final kill for the evening to the one thing all females have in common:


And with that, I signed off.

Not willing to give any opportunistic male bounty hunters the satisfaction of taking this murderer's little feminist victory away, I leapt from a window with a massive smile on my face.



Not long after, Duke had words with TheDavibob on a WPKU broadcast.



He wasn't far away after all! I could have kissed him for killing TheDavibob. Unfortunately, in my state, a kiss would have surely infected him.

Incidentally, I'm a little disappointed in the sudden lack of camera skills in the Northern half of Buckley Mall after my little killing spree. If anyone reading this has a shot of the murders, please come forward. You'll be on my "Do Not Kill" list for life. That goes for almost anyone who can provide me personally with shots of my kills. Almost.

I've had a blast these past few days in Wyke Hills and Buttonville and I am sad to have to leave in such a hurry. But once again there is business to attend to in the North West. If all goes well, I may return in a little while. In the meantime here's the original and unabridged recording that that handsome Vandr snagged.



Oh! And a special shout out to Roy Banes from The Spartans who stopped by to wish me well last week. Hopefully we'll meet again amongst more comfortable surroundings.

Slow News Day

I've been wandering through the south without much purpose of late. Seems everywhere I go I find less than what I expected.

Before leaving Lockettside to the zombies, I made my curtain call.

That put the total tally at 11 kills to 3. I was pleased with that. It's not the most I've killed, but it is better than I've had this week.

As the title suggests it's been a slow week. Although, it did kick off with a bang; I had the pleasure of witnessing Duke D'oeuvre slaughter 8 little piggies in a row in Veresmith Street Police Department in my home town, Spicer Hills, however the audience didn't seem too appreciative.

That's 8 kills right there. The last of which had begun to fire on him. There's a reason he's the president of Lord Curton's Gentlemens Hunting Club and it's not because of his obsession with tea and scones.

And after one little piggy took his cop-on out on me, I decided to head east. Ahhh Wyke Hills. It's a dreary little town really. It's on the southern most border of Malton. There's a mall with lots of army men wandering around, a couple clubs and pubs but really not much else to say about this town. Ah but I am forgetful! The Randoms patrol this area. They're apparently a fun bunch. I've not had the opportunity to properly meet with any of them yet though. Maybe later on this week.

It's good survivor groups like this that makes dull work for me. Although, I did find one old friend from Pitneybank. Those who have been following this log will remember Hazzard114 as the welcoming commity for Giddings.



Hopefully he'll feel just as welcome as I felt.


And with that I headed north. I had hoped to stop by Pole Mall yet again. However I found it was ruined. Shame really. This didn't deter me from a little community service. AxleRose was a zombie. Well, I suppose he IS a zombie now. But he'd been revived and was sitting in Telfer Cinema gaping in awe at the screen and eyes darting about. So I sent him back to his zetheren.

I also sent Jason Corleone with him.

And I've been building up my energy. But it seems all for nothing since the injured cops I was stalking were healed before I had the chance to work some magic.
I sighed and picked up my shotgun. At least there was one piggy I could still put out of his misery.


Killing cops has become a bit of a habit I'm afraid. It's almost a sadistic thrill. Almost...well...okay it is sadistic. But hey, if they weren't looking for death, they wouldn't be making such an obvious target of themselves. Just step in front of my shotgun piggies. I love bacon.

And so rather than dwelling on a lull, I'm looking forward to the rest of the week as I'm told that some of my friends and collegues will be joining me, although I don't believe the Duke will be amongst them. He seems to be my good luck charm. Perhaps I'm due for another trip to Roftwood...

From My Cold Dead Hands

The last few weeks have been a blur. Apologies to those who have been visiting to find that I've not updated. I have been rather busy though. Unfortunately, my camera has been running low on juice for the last few weeks as well. I did however manage to grab a few shots from friends and security footage.

After my dear, sweet Faico planted a bullet in my head, I wandered south. As far south as South Blythville as a matter of fact. It was aimless, fruitless searching. I lived as the undead; shambling from one town to the next in search of nothing in particular but a cold black ruin to sleep in and maybe a morsel of flesh to feed upon. I even visited the Homeland again briefly. Unfortunately, I was unable to appreciate Ridleybank as the Mecca for zombies everywhere as I still had this irresistable urge to breathe again.

My friends were north. I was south. I hadn't expected to find a revive for some time. My expectations however were completely off. It was only a day or so after I'd been killed that I found a revive in South Blythville and proceeded to Marven Mall to restock. It was there that I found elliotmess and Jauqes.



Of course, it's a line from a Clint Eastwood movie. One of my adoring public requested it...And naturally I was more than happy to deliver.


And then there was Jauqes. Yeah, that's another Clint Eastwood line, ripped directly from the horse's mouth.

I suppose he's not really that ugly...I mean, he's not beyond help. Maybe a beard or something...Well, I did what I could anyhow.

Shooting him in the face probably didn't do him any favors.

And so I wandered over to St Simeon's for a little nap.

The next day I wandered southward again, in search of some new faces to shoot. However, I found some old faces, one of which I greeted with some hot lead love and a little nibble on her ear. She's still a little annoyed about that. Hey! It'll heal! Besides, what kinda girl goes out without concealer?

I also stumbled across ProphetZ but I was stretched for time as I'd already been snitched on.

So I headed back north to St Simeons briefly. On my way I found a few injured survivors.

Too delicious to resist.


After a night's rest I was called by a friend down to Lockettside. The people of DORIS demanded satisfaction after the citizens of Lockettside tried to pry Charleton Heston's guns from his cold dead hands and ban guns from Malton. As a matter of fact, we still demand satisfaction.

I've been doing my bit. So far I've killed 10 to demonstrate the joy of guns. Nothing quite satisfys the soul like sound of a semi-automatic splicing through someone's skull. Ugh. I've been hanging out with Duke too much.

My first kill of open season in Lockettside, Humbert VonGikkingen, was treated to a recitation of this quote from the Heston: "People should bear arms, not arm bears," right before he died. Unfortunately I didn't get a picture of that, but I've promised the boys from Bowring Blackwatch 1 erotic massage to the bearer of gifs and or PNGs that feature me killing one of them (or anyone for that matter.) The offer is good for anyone really. But please understand that I am after mainly photo ops that I've missed.

Shortly after a random mall cop shot me. Apparently he's a bounty hunter who's a tad out of practice. More power to him I say. I'm still listed as Kill On Sight, incidentally, which explains why I've been killed so many times, so close to Tompson Mall this week.

Poor Raymond Davidson was second. Merely chance find on my way to handing over some drugs to some zombified friends...He was gasping and spluttering when I found him, so I decided to put him out of his misery.

I managed to grab a shot in the Cheeke Building where I murdered Moses Black.



And my fourth, fifth and sixth murders were nicely captured by Lewyn's lovely antique camera.

Agent Banks and romoisagod were another two that I missed. I made a lovely dedication to Pluto and everything. Of course, much like the master of chicanery himself, Aleister Crowly, it's mainly for show. While I support the populate and their ideals, I don't believe in any gods, as a disappointed fan (read:stalker) found out through internet relay chat a few days back.

It was after these couple kills, that I was MURDERED! Y'know, I think they're finally catching on! Well, except the one guy who hacked weakly at my foot for a bit, I think the message is getting through to these people.

Just to be sure, I wandered over to the mall and shot at the poor fool who's ignorant parents gave him what appears to be a serial number for a name. Naturally, I told him why he was getting killed. He bled on me a little and died. I proceeded to shoot at his pal, oinkler, but was bereft of ammunition and energy. So I wandered next door. My lovely manservent Giov was good enough to clean up, but he, like the rest of the populate, tends to prefer guns to cameras.

Lastly, but certainly not least, I had the pleasure of meeting an ex-rotter whilest restocking in the mall.

Afterwards, I wandered over to the north eastern corner of the mall to check out the hats on offer. I found a lovely black fur number. However, this was a careless move on my behalf as Kooky Mcspook had in fact risen shortly after I shot her and found me while I was trying on a deerhunter's hat for kicks. Such brutality...I must admit, I admire her tenacity. I only really seek vengence if I've got nothing better to do these days.

Leaping from the roof of Tompson, I made a quick escape to the Beer building, where a couple minutes later, one of Kooky Mcspook's friends from Bowring Blackwatch caught up with me. I recieved a needle from a nice corporate looking fellow a couple hours later.

So, my apologies to those who have been choming at the bit to hear what I was up to (I know there are at least two of you.) I've been holding off on this log due mainly to the lack of images as I was hoping some good samaritains would deliver some incriminating evidence to the proper authorities. But for some reason, the people of Lockettside seem perfectly content, or at least, apathetic about my killing spree.

So far it's 3 to 10. I'll see how I go this week, however I've word that the most militant, die hard (hard dead is perhaps more appropriate,) horde of zombies Malton has ever seen, is headed our way which means I may have to leave Lockettside quickly.