#Bristow Red Jacket

[jacket-coats]

Christmas at the Palace Brittany Bristow Red Jacket

[theamericanoutfit]

Jessica Christmas at the Palace Red Leather Jacket

Product Specifications:

Inspired By: Brittany Bristow

External Material: Suede Leather

Inner: Viscose Lining

Front: Zipper Closure

Collar: Lapel Collar

Color: Red

Pockets: Three Outside and One Inside

Sleeves: Full-Length Sleeves

[thepaperpanda]

The Skies of Dead

Summary: When London become devoured by walking corpses and mysterious virus, two complete strangers try to find a way to keep on surviving in the rotten city.

Warnings: zombies, graphic description of violence

Words: 3223

Authors: Cass & Grizzly

A/N: Cass here! My boyfriend has always had a little dream about writing his own story. I am so glad I could have helped him in making this dream come true! Hope you all will enjoy it as much as we did while writing! I love you, sweetie! 😍😍

As Arthur Bristow stood across from the building and debated with himself whether or not he should enter the Shard building, the humming and chanting grew louder.

Arthur held a machete up, breathing deeply as he checked once again if the blade was sharp enough.

Who is in there? What in blazes are they doing?

It had been a horrible week to the man. It was now four days later, and the reports of missing persons and murders in the streets of London had multiplied to shocking statistics. The city was seeing its fair share of violence, too, and it all seemed to orbit around the Shard skyscraper.

That morning four days ago, Arthur had gone to his office, finished his paper work, packed his pocket voice recorder, and set off walking to the London Eye where he had to meet with famous guest, who was about to share an interview to him. When he arrived on place, he realized the recorder wasn’t in his pocket. That made him angry and frustrated. Had he dropped it on the way? It could be anywhere between The Times office and London Eye. Arthur cursed when he realized his foolishness. Nevertheless, he made up his mind to return to his office and look for the recorder. It was when he saw undeads for the first time. Everything bursted out of nowhere, people were chasing others, trying to bite their flesh, and as soon as someone has been bitten, they turned into undeads as well. And most of infected went out of Shard. Was it a coincidence?

This day Arthur had taken a short side trip to London Bridge Street to take a look at the Shard, and here he was. Scared and hesitant. The sweat trickled down his neck. His heart rate had increased.

If you’re going inside, you’d better get going, he commanded himself. Be brave. It can’t possibly be that bad, can it?

He stepped into the street and crossed to the other side. It was then that he realized there wasn’t much traffic. For a Saturday morning, that was unheard of.

Where was everyone? Perhaps the Londoners were just as frightened as he was and were staying indoors. Good for them.

Arthur went up the stone steps and put his ear to the doors made of glass. The ugly chorale was a symphony of moans. It sounded as if the people inside were in pain and were collectively and wordlessly expressing their misery. A bunch of very sick civilians had gathered in...

Steeling his nerves and taking a deep breath, Bristow opened the doors. The stench that met his nostrils almost overpowered him. He gagged and put a hand over his mouth. He considered turning back, but now his curiosity got the best of him. He stepped inside.

The inner foyer was empty, but it was clear that the noise was coming from theinside, off to the left. Artur slowly approached the double doors to the great conference room, swallowed, and opened them.

The horror inside was too much to comprehend. And then the source of the terror turned its attention to him..

The coldness of old, stoned basement was growing with every minute Emily was spending there. The lightbulb was shining brightly but even light didn't change the fact about her position. She sat in the corner of the room, scared and cold with her back pressed hard to a wall.

Just a four days ago this young lady was working at a veterinary clinic. She never said her work was hard, being close to animals of all kinds was the main goal in her life. Their size never frightened her but that day all animals acted weird just like they would feel something that people did not, cats were hissing and dogs were nervous.

Due to some unexplained reasons, all patients canceled their appointments or simply didn't show up. This was highly suspicious to every worker but the truth was that there was no one to work for so everyone was sent home.

Emily lived outside London in a small village.

She got into her car and drove through the streets, this was when she saw the undead for the first time even if she wasn't completely oblivious to the fact then.

The man shuffled trough driveway, he was covered in blood and didn't look healthy, Emily did her best to pass him by thinking that it was just some kind of sick person on a lose.

Even if the house was small it still was cozy and enough for a young woman. Even if the day seemed quiet it quickly changed into chaos.

Emily looked through the window as soon as she heard screams outside, the things that she saw made her stomach turned.

People were running and attacking each other, acting like rabid animals which only goal was to bite someone. The sidewalks were already splattered with blood, turned body decorated streets and lawns.

At this point, only one thing hit Emily - thought about finding a shelter. She needed to hide from horrors of the outside world.

An only safe place that she knew was her basement, she ran there as soon as it was possible.

And this was how she ended in such a bad position but she knew she couldn't stay there forever.

Arthur Bristow opened his eyes, winced at the brightness of the new day, and immediately vomited. He forced himself to get to his knees in order to keep the vile stuff from getting on his clothes, although lying in the recesses of a burnt-out building wasn’t the cleanest place he could have hidden.

Soot, ash, and blackened pieces of the wooden roof that had caved into the space littered the floor; its filthiness hadn’t been so obvious last night when he’d slithered inside the structure of Big Ben.

You don’t care too much where you’re going when you’re running for your life. The main thing is to hide—quickly and silently—so they don’t get you.

After he’d finished heaving, Arthur crawled away from the mess and weakly collapsed. He lay on his back, looking up through the gaping hole at the clouds in the bright blue sky. This one building was the most iconic, both palace and clock tower.

Ironically, it was a beautiful day outside. The weather was perfect, although hot, ideal for a relaxing swim in the hotel pool.

Big Ben was now a relic of the past. The luxury establishment was now burned, destroyed, and overrun with Infected. And it had happened so quickly. The siege by the creatures began after ten last evening, and it was over in less than an hour. Everyone who was still alive had fled into the dark, dangerous streets of London. Arthur was surprised no one else had followed him into this little shelter, where he huddled for hours in fear until he had finally fallen asleep.

Sleep. At this point, it was something that wasted precious time. And he didn’t have a whole lot of that left.

Man rolled up the torn sleeve of the windbreaker he had donned to keep warm. The bite on his forearm was angry, red, and swollen. It burned like the dickens. He noted the time on his wristwatch; it had been roughly seven and a half hours since the Infected’s teeth had clamped down and punctured his skin. Now, the wound appeared diseased and putrid. Yellow pus oozed from the several perforations. It was gross, it hurt, and it was certainly deadly. Arthur quickly covered it with the sleeve of his leather jacket, although it, too, exhibited punctures in the fabric.

He stifled a cry, but the tears flowed regardless.

Emily growled pushing the heavy flap of the basement, the morning felt cold even if the sky was clear outside.

She wasn't sure how many days she spent in the basement. Her fear was paralyzing to the point that she refused to leave the safe place, thanks God for jars of food she had there.

Emily moved to window, a view there calmed her down but at the same time gave her weird feeling of danger.

The horror she saw before hiding, disappeared. Now streets were simply empty, some splashes of blood but that was it. Whatever happened she couldn't just stay there and wait for the rescue because that might never come.

Emily had chaos in her head but she had to do something so she grabbed her bag and packed some simple items like a flashlight and some bandages as well as something to eat, then put on her jacket and slowly left using the front door.

How angry she was when she saw her car was gone, all she saw was little bits of glass scattered over driveway.

Emily decided that she had to get to London, the capital of the whole country simply had to have some kind of a shelter or at last information of what the hell happened.

The young woman opened the garage and looked inside, the only useful thing there was a bike. There was no other way so she had to use the bike.

The way to London was terrible, it was a long time since she used the bike for the last time.

No matter what place she went by, they all were almost empty. Almost was the word, on her way she saw some moaning, whining, mangled figures but she never dared to get close.

The City of London was always beautiful and full of life, it was one of the most popular cities in the whole world but now it looked sad and empty.

Streets splattered with blood, old newspaper scattered all around the city, wrecks of cars.

Was it war or something else?

Emily jumped off the bike as soon as she got to one of the most iconic places in the whole city - Big Ben.

Looking around Emily smiled seeing someone walking the street.

"Sorry!," she yelled. "Hello! Excuse me but do you know what happened here? I look for some information and maybe... some government shelter," she said walking to the stranger. The horror grew big as soon as she got closer to the person

It wasn't really a person. It was a living corpse. Empty eyes and grey-white skin, its jaw was half ripped exposing everything inside. It was missing a whole arm. The creature let out a weird sound and started quickly moving toward Emily.

"Fuck! What is this! Help, can somebody help!?," Emily let out a high pitched scream and started running, trying her best to lose the monster or hide from it.

How long did he have? There was no question that he would turn. It happened to everyone who was bitten. Sometimes it took a few hours, but he had seen others fight it for up to two days. His former friend had wisely conjectured that it depended on how healthy a person was. If you were young, strong, and in good shape, then you lasted longer. The weak, elderly, and very young children turned quickly. And it was horrible. Arthur had seen first-hand what transpired when a person turned. He didn't want that to happen to him.

The nausea had passed, but Arthur felt as if he had the flu. He placed a palm to his forehead and realized he was burning up. How high was her fever? No way to know. Could his healthy resistance keep himself from turning before the medicine arrived?

If the medicine arrived.

Arthur dug into the backpack again and pulled out the handgun. It was a Colt. He appreciated the weight in palm, and then he lifted it to his head. He placed the end of the barrel to temple and wrapped  finger around the trigger. It would be so simple. Just squeeze. Perhaps a moment of pain and surprise, and then blackness. Arthur would never have to experience the horror of turning into one of them. It was truly the sensible thing to do. Who was he kidding? He was doomed. Nothing was going to stop him from turning, unless... The fucking medicine.

But before he could bolt, Arthur heard some noises outside of his shelter. And a voice. NORMAL VOICE OF SOME WOMAN.

"Fuck," he cursed and put gun back into his backpack, then took a bat with himself as he headed downstairs and out of Bog Ben, right onto empty street.

The woman was running out before one of Infected.

Arthur sighed and made some noise to distract undead.

The thing that used to be a guy emitted a howling snarl and leapt forward with surprising agility. Reflexively, Arthur swung the bat as if he was trying to knock one out of the ballpark. The club smashed into guys’s head, throwing him back onto ground. Arthur swung the bat again, striking the man’s arm. There was a loud snap and the man wailed. Arthur was sure he had broken a bone. Again, Bristow struck with the weapon. This time, the bat hit the man’s neck, surely snapping it. The horrid noise coming out of his mouth abruptly ceased as his throat was crushed. Arthur kept swinging wildly. Thing tried to get up. He drew closer and then,the bat walloped him in the head. He fell to his knees but kept grappling. Arthur clouted him again, and this time Infected dropped to the ground, unconscious.

All was quiet, except for Arthur’s rapid breathing. He shut his eyes, said a silent prayer, and then looked at the body, only to move his glance at the stranger.

Emily was sitting on the ground, her back pressed against the wall, arms covering and tightly holding her head. Her eyes were wide and cheeks were wet from fresh tears, she was hasping for air.

She was never attacked before, since begining she didn't know what was happening but this was madness, horror.

She loooked at stranger, shivering hard. He just killed this... Thing. What if he will kill her next.

"I do not have anything that would be valuable with me! Don't kill me!," Emily whimpered with voic full of fear.

Arthur tilted head aside and snorted shortly.

"I don't care. Come," he walked to her and offered his hand. "Unless you wanna rather stay here and wait for death."                

Emily blinked a few time, thinking about all of this. After a moment she nodded and wiped her eyes before taking stranger's hand.

There was no other hand, and she had to survive somehow, no matter what happened here. She had to trust him, looking at the situation from a minute ago she would never survive alone.

"What... What had happened here? I don't understand, one day everyone went crazy," Emily said as she followed the stranger.

He hushed her by raised hand. "Quiet or we will become their dinner."

He led her inside the clock tower and as soon as they passes threshold, Arthur made sure to lock door and push heavy drawer in front of them, just in case.

All the windows were covered with anything that was available then: rags, furniture, newspapers glued to glass.

She pressed her lips together and nodded, studying his face carefully. Emily had to admit he was a handsome man, she couldn't say his age but he wasn't old. She followed him.

Inside Big Ben, Emily looked around amazed and terrified. Emily looked at stranger waiting at the permission to speak.

"What were you doing out there, all alone, no weapon?," Arthur asked as he took a trip along the wooden stairs. "You had wanted to get your head cut off by their teeth?," he continued leading the way.

Emily watched him unsure what to say, finally, she found the right words. "What do you mean? I have no idea what was that... I guess I spend a too long time in this basement of mine," she said and quickly followed the man. "I just saw this madness and hid, I have no idea how long I spend there. When I left I simply packed some food, bandages and went to London. Is this some kind of government shelter? Or maybe you know how to get there... Oh! I am Emily, by the way," young woman smiled sweetly at the stranger.

"You have bandages? I'll need them," he said simply, he didn't pay more attention to her other words. "No. There's no government shelter. The government is dead by now I bet," Arthur growled as they approached the controlling room at the higher level of clock tower.

He opened door ans shifted aside to let Emily in. He followed her closing door behind him.

Emily looked around and nodded. "Yes, I have bandages and what do you mean, they are dead? What even happened? Is it the War Wold 3?"

She took off her jacket and bag and looked inside then back at the man.

"Come here... I will help you with whatever happened to you. I hope that my bandages will be enough."

"Don't," he growled deeply eyeing her. "I don't need your help, who you are, a fucking nurse?"

Arthur felt even worse now. The flu-like symptoms hit him more strongly than before. He sat down on the cot laying under the window, he rested back of his head against the wall and gasped. "No one knows," he said after moment of silence, "It just happened. People turned into killing machines. They attacked everyone on their way. Nothing could have stopped them, even a gun shot. Now I know only a headshot can take 'em down."

"You don't need my help so you don't need need my bandages, sir," Emily growled with a frown and went to find herself a nice place to sit. She found it in the corner of the room, she put the jacket on the floor and then sat down and looked at the man. "Sounds like zombies or something. So? We are stuck in a real-life horror movie? What now?"

"Can you shut your mouth for a bit, my head hurts," he told her coldly gazing up at her. "I just need them. And be grateful, I happened to save your life," Arthur said.

He felt rotten and didn’t know if he could find the strength to stand again and keep moving. Should he grab the revolver and shoot himself now? The sickness was worse.

Emily frowned and took the bandages out of her bag. She threw them to him with some little snack she had with herself. "Thank you," Emily whispered to not annoy him anymore.

Arthur had gotten up. For a few seconds he felt dizzy and was afraid he would be sick again, but it passed quickly. He moved to the side and waited until his thumping heart slowed.

He looked at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to be mean. I am scared and lost, just like you," man said.

Emily got up and slowly walked to him. "I am kinda used to this but fighting won't get us anyway. Come on, let me help you with whatevere happen. I am a vet but... bandaging man can't be harder than bandaging a dog," she shrugged with soft smile.

"It's gonna be rough tough," he said glaring at her. "I was bitten."

[yesshinypizzastudentthings-blog]

Vince Camuto Stripe Cardigan

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