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.