This is Not a DrillMature

The virus has finally struck.

A/N: So, this is my lil side project, a story I’m working at with my boyfriend. I’m giving you all a fair warning now: don’t except the poetry you’d find in Black Orchid here. Still, please be kind, read and comment. Thanks to everyone that has taken the time to rate and enjoy my work.   

Now my boyfriends note:

This is not a story of love and affection; the world as we know it will be cast into the depths of hell. There will be no boundaries of what the characters will do to survive. It will be survival of the fittest. All of the characters ARE based on our best friends that we know and love. I am not the creative type; this is the fantasy land that my friend Zach and I have been preparing for our entire lives for, the future virus that will bring all of humanity to it’s  knees, and the death of the entire human race that follows. So have fun I suppose :P


Character descriptions:


Chuck: Me, I am seventeen years old, black long(ish) hair. I have been called Emo, Punk, and Goth, feel free to call me what ever you like. I smoke Marb. Red cigarettes. I drink Pepsi…lots. I sleep every three days or so, yes, I have insomnia. My out look on life and the human race: Dismal.

Bear: Our friend who has suffered tragic family loss through drugs and suicide. All this man does it eat, sleep, and breathe. Lately, working out has been a top priority. He is the happy go lucky one of our group these days. Outlook of life and the human race: Optimistic.

Flake: This is the guy Zach. He never leaves home unless it’s with me to…uh…hangout, we will call it. He is a gamer, with a wide range of skills when it comes down to making shelter, conserving ammo, and scavenging. I have been into situations with this man where, honestly, he has used these skills. Outlook on life and the human race: Indifferent.

Skye: Well my girl friend. Not much else she wants to reveal to you all. Outlook on life and the human race: Tragic.

The End

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