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changedYou know who I feel really sorry for? The gravediggers and funeral directors. What hell are you supposed to do when the goods start walking around biting folks? When this whole thing started, all we cared about was tearing away from the claws and teeth of our brothers, mothers, best friends…we didn’t think about the way some of them moved differently to others; how some still clung onto relics from their past lives, like they had some sort of vestigial remnant of what they once were buried deep in their rotten skulls. Those of us who survived more than a few days started to recognise that - in this horde of death and decay - there were certain ‘types’ of zed. I’m not talking about the wacky crap you’d see in movies - “oh my god that zombie has two heads!!”, “Jesus, look at the size of his tongue!”. I’m talking about real stuff - how some moved faster than others, or how certain zeds didn’t care so much about devouring as they did infecting… So, let’s play a little game called ‘know thy enemy’. First off, you’ve got Walkers. These guys are the most common type of zed you’ll encounter - slow-moving, slow-thinking, but they don’t need to think fast when all they want to do is make a meal outta you. You might think it’s easy to get away from a Walker - hell, I used to think so too - but the scariest thing is…you eventually have to sleep. Walkers don’t. They’ll just keep coming. And one night you’ll be lying there, wiping the dust from your eyes, and then a sharp pain will shoot up your leg… Next up, the Runners. Now this is where we separate the kids from the adults. Runners do exactly that: they run, and god-damn do they run fast. Whatever their fitness was in their past life, these zeds move like lightning. But, unbelievably, that’s not the worst part. Oh no, it gets way worse. Turns out Runners don’t care so much about turning you into pulled pork like the Walkers do. Instead, these freaks come screaming out of nowhere to take a bite out of you and spread the infection. I’ve known too many good people fight off a Runner thinking they had a lucky break…’til they saw the bite on their arm, and realised the Runner got exactly what it wanted. Rest easy, Brett. And what about the Shamblers? Imagine a food waste bin that’s been out in the summer sun for 3 or 4 weeks, crawling with maggots. Every time you walk past it, your stomach turns and you fight back the urge to vomit. Now imagine that times ten - and you might get somewhere close to how bad these freaks stink. Shamblers stagger through the streets, and if you breathe in their stench, you’re gonna find it hard to breathe...I even heard from one group of Survivors that the fumes caused one of their guys to turn after he died. Sounds like a tall tale, but you never know these days. Oh, and to make matters worse, if a Shambler sees you, you better kill him quick - otherwise he’ll start screaming, and we all know what that leads to… There’s more zed types than these three, but I’ll save that for another night. Something or someone is coming up the road. Ellie was meant to be on watch…aw, hell.
No More Room in Hell 2 changes
changedYou know who I feel really sorry for? The gravediggers and funeral directors. What hell are you supposed to do when the goods start walking around biting folks? When this whole thing started, all we cared about was tearing away from the claws and teeth of our brothers, mothers, best friends…we didn’t think about the way some of them moved differently to others; how some still clung onto relics from their past lives, like they had some sort of vestigial remnant of what they once were buried deep in their rotten skulls. Those of us who survived more than a few days started to recognise that - in this horde of death and decay - there were certain ‘types’ of zed. I’m not talking about the wacky crap you’d see in movies - “oh my god that zombie has two heads!!”, “Jesus, look at the size of his tongue!”. I’m talking about real stuff - how some moved faster than others, or how certain zeds didn’t care so much about devouring as they did infecting… So, let’s play a little game called ‘know thy enemy’. First off, you’ve got Walkers. These guys are the most common type of zed you’ll encounter - slow-moving, slow-thinking, but they don’t need to think fast when all they want to do is make a meal outta you. You might think it’s easy to get away from a Walker - hell, I used to think so too - but the scariest thing is…you eventually have to sleep. Walkers don’t. They’ll just keep coming. And one night you’ll be lying there, wiping the dust from your eyes, and then a sharp pain will shoot up your leg… Next up, the Runners. Now this is where we separate the kids from the adults. Runners do exactly that: they run, and god-damn do they run fast. Whatever their fitness was in their past life, these zeds move like lightning. But, unbelievably, that’s not the worst part. Oh no, it gets way worse. Turns out Runners don’t care so much about turning you into pulled pork like the Walkers do. Instead, these freaks come screaming out of nowhere to take a bite out of you and spread the infection. I’ve known too many good people fight off a Runner thinking they had a lucky break…’til they saw the bite on their arm, and realised the Runner got exactly what it wanted. Rest easy, Brett. And what about the Shamblers? Imagine a food waste bin that’s been out in the summer sun for 3 or 4 weeks, crawling with maggots. Every time you walk past it, your stomach turns and you fight back the urge to vomit. Now imagine that times ten - and you might get somewhere close to how bad these freaks stink. Shamblers stagger through the streets, and if you breathe in their stench, you’re gonna find it hard to breathe...I even heard from one group of Survivors that the fumes caused one of their guys to turn after he died. Sounds like a tall tale, but you never know these days. Oh, and to make matters worse, if a Shambler sees you, you better kill him quick - otherwise he’ll start screaming, and we all know what that leads to… There’s more zed types than these three, but I’ll save that for another night. Something or someone is coming up the road. Ellie was meant to be on watch…aw, hell.
You know who I feel really sorry for? The gravediggers and funeral directors. What hell are you supposed to do when the goods start walking around biting folks? When this whole thing started, all we cared about was tearing away from the claws and teeth of our brothers, mothers, best friends…we didn’t think about the way some of them moved differently to others; how some still clung onto relics from their past lives, like they had some sort of vestigial remnant of what they once were buried deep in their rotten skulls. Those of us who survived more than a few days started to recognise that - in this horde of death and decay - there were certain ‘types’ of zed. I’m not talking about the wacky crap you’d see in movies - “oh my god that zombie has two heads!!”, “Jesus, look at the size of his tongue!”. I’m talking about real stuff - how some moved faster than others, or how certain zeds didn’t care so much about devouring as they did infecting… So, let’s play a little game called ‘know thy enemy’. First off, you’ve got Walkers. These guys are the most common type of zed you’ll encounter - slow-moving, slow-thinking, but they don’t need to think fast when all they want to do is make a meal outta you. You might think it’s easy to get away from a Walker - hell, I used to think so too - but the scariest thing is…you eventually have to sleep. Walkers don’t. They’ll just keep coming. And one night you’ll be lying there, wiping the dust from your eyes, and then a sharp pain will shoot up your leg… Next up, the Runners. Now this is where we separate the kids from the adults. Runners do exactly that: they run, and god-damn do they run fast. Whatever their fitness was in their past life, these zeds move like lightning. But, unbelievably, that’s not the worst part. Oh no, it gets way worse. Turns out Runners don’t care so much about turning you into pulled pork like the Walkers do. Instead, these freaks come screaming out of nowhere to take a bite out of you and spread the infection. I’ve known too many good people fight off a Runner thinking they had a lucky break…’til they saw the bite on their arm, and realised the Runner got exactly what it wanted. Rest easy, Brett. And what about the Shamblers? Imagine a food waste bin that’s been out in the summer sun for 3 or 4 weeks, crawling with maggots. Every time you walk past it, your stomach turns and you fight back the urge to vomit. Now imagine that times ten - and you might get somewhere close to how bad these freaks stink. Shamblers stagger through the streets, and if you breathe in their stench, you’re gonna find it hard to breathe...I even heard from one group of Survivors that the fumes caused one of their guys to turn after he died. Sounds like a tall tale, but you never know these days. Oh, and to make matters worse, if a Shambler sees you, you better kill him quick - otherwise he’ll start screaming, and we all know what that leads to… There’s more zed types than these three, but I’ll save that for another night. Something or someone is coming up the road. Ellie was meant to be on watch…aw, hell.
Note from Cenelder
In No More Room in Hell 2, our vision of Hell isn’t far from the real world, and so
