#too freaked out by hand gore to play them but i love lore heavy fantasy

[rohirric-hunter]

What is Resident Evil even about, because I've watched a few YouTube videos and so far what I'm getting is... evil corporation that deals in zombie apocalypses

[boop-teh-snoot]

Excerpt From My WIP Novel

because for once I feel like I actually wrote something well enough to post?  I showed my friend, who HATES zombie literature, and he enjoyed it, so I’m going to go out on a limb and show people here.

Constructive criticism is welcome.  I’m wanting to publish this at some point (after edits and rewrites, of course), and I’m still shaky at this whole ‘writing’ thing, so please please please give me advice.

Basic Premise:  Think Sword Art Online, but instead of a fantasy game, it is “The Most Realistic Zombie Game In History™”.

WARNING:  There is a teeny bit of gore in it.  Also I think I used the f-word once.  So...there’s that.

If you don’t want to comment, just message me.  I generally reply to all messages, so that’s just the most convenient way to get ahold of me.  (Also I’m shit with tags.  I can’t keep up.  I love reading them and will occasionally use them myself, when I remember to, but for the most part...what are tags)

I'm not worried about dying.  This is a tutorial, for god's sake.  I gingerly step over a corpse and follow the thick yellow arrow that's trying to subtly guide me to my destination.  I don't really want to, to be honest.  Tutorials are a great place to grab a lot of loot of minimal effort, and since it is almost a guarantee that I won't be attacked until after I kill the creepy little kid that's munching on my virtual colleague, I'm confident that I'll be just fine.  I start trying to open lockers; most of them are locked, but the ones that aren't are...well, they're a major disappointment.  I can't even pick up gum.  There's a lot of lore in here though - diaries, notes, school books.  I pick up every single one, wait until the little "collected" mark appears on its cover, then set them all down again.  Their contents are registered to my codex now, so there's no point in picking them up right now.  When I get a safe zone and set up bookshelves, I can always come back to get them.

I can't open the gymnasium door.  It's not locked.  It's not chained.  It's just a door-colored wall.  I inhale deeply, pursing my lips in momentary frustration, then turn around and head back down the long hallway.  I try again with other doors, but the cafeteria, the teacher's lounge, and even the cafeteria are inaccessible to me.  That blows.  I turn back to the yellow arrow and follow it reluctantly down yet another straight and eerily empty hallway.  I try not to let the silence get to me.  I'm used to schools being loud and bustling, even after school; this void of sound is extremely out of place, and I am very uncomfortable.  A door to my left slowly swings open, and I swear I jump higher than I've ever jumped in my life.  *Ah, fuck.*  I don't have a weapon.  I don't have any good armor.  The best thing I have is a damned high-heel shoe that doesn't even have proper stabbing heels, just a rubber wedge - comfortable for walking, terrible for killing.  Still, I slide one off my pantyhosed foot and grip it tightly as I edge closer to the haunted door; I refuse to acknowledge that my hands are trembling.  In my head, I keep chanting the same mantra, over and over:  This is a tutorial.  Nothing is going to attack you.  This is a tutorial.  Nothing can hurt you.  This is a tutorial...

I spend far too long huddled right beside the doorframe; the answer to the riddle of the haunted classroom is literally inches from me, but the dread that clenches my heart squeezes every time I'm about to look.  I take a deep, trembling breath and slowly peek around the corner, my eye sweeping across the room for several seconds before it lands on the cause of all this: an open window, and a breeze catching the heavy wooden door to push it open.  I slump in relief and gasp out a weak, shuddering laugh at my own stupidity.  *You idiot!*, I chastise myself as I wobble on one leg to put the shoe back on my foot.  *You don't even have a weapon yet.  The tutorial isn't going to let you get attacked until you have a weapon, ya dingus.*  I give myself a few seconds to calm down, to let the adrenaline fade so my hands stop shaking like a leaf in a tornado.  I duck into the classroom to loot and am shocked to find that there is actually stuff to pick up here.  It's nothing great - there's some gum and an empty notebook in a desk, and the teacher's desk has a ring of keys and a pack of cigarettes.  I pocket them and close the window to prevent future scares.  "That was unnecessary," I inform the window sternly, mostly just to fill the silence.  "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?  I don't think the game is capable of resuscitating me."

This time, I smack my head against the window as another rustle behind me startles me again.  I spin around, this time pressing my entire body against the wall.  That wasn't the wind - that was definitely footsteps.  I swallow hard, trying to at least dampen my suddenly parched throat, but cannot otherwise move.  My eyes are locked on the door as the footsteps move closer and closer.  I can't tell if the approaching figure is dragging their feet or not.  At this point, I don't really care.  I'm completely unarmed.  If it's a zombie, I'm screwed unless I can duck around it somehow - and even that involves me waiting here until it finds me in this room.  The front of a figure appears in the doorway, stops, and turns to face me.  I am holding my breath - why?  I don't know - and staring at it in unabashed horror.  This is it.  This is how I die in a freaking tutorial.

"Are you alive?"  The figure, a heavyset middle-aged woman no taller than my virtual fourth-grade students, peers worriedly at me and takes a step forward.  I don't immediately respond, capable only of staring at her in mute shock.  She tilts her head slightly, her brow furrowing in concern.  "Are - are you alive?  Um.  I don't want to have to kill you.  Please answer me."

After a moment, I clear my throat to find my voice.  "I - uh.  I think so.  I'm not - Have you been bitten?"

She frowns at me.  "I don't understand.  What does that have to do with anything?"

"The zombies - I mean, the attackers - they all bite the people they attack.  I think that's how this sickness spreads."  I feel silly explaining this to what is most likely an NPC, but the role playing aspect of video games has always appealed to me.  If I'm going to play a TVR game, I'm going to do ir right, damn it.  I do not move from my spot plastered against the wall.  I have no intention to.  What if this woman is bitten?  What if she's about to turn?  I need to be able to get past her to run away, since I clearly can't kill her right now.  I have to be careful.  I am not dying in the stupid tutorial.

She slowly shakes her head as she enters the room.  There is blood on her olive-green dress, but none of it looks to be hers.  "No-o?  I'm fine."  She shuffles closer, her small eyes squinting at me with a combination of fear and concern glinting in her brown irises.  "I don't know what's going on.  You're the first living person I've found.  Please help me."  A single tear begins to trickle down her pudgy cheeks; she wipes it away, smearing her blush into a pink streak.  "We have to get out so we can call the police.  We have to leave the awful place.  Please - "

As much as I don't want to, I feel myself give a heavy resigned sigh.  "All right.  I'll help you."  I lightly push past her, mildly irritated that this tutorial seems to have evolved into a very unwanted escort mission.  *At least there's a chance I'll get bonus experience for getting her out of here...*  I glance at the floor to reorient myself to the direction of the yellow arrow, then beckon to her wth a flick of my hand.  "We need to get weapons.  Follow me."  She obeys without question or comment, further solidifying my theory that she's just an NPC, and we walk in silence down the yellow-arrowed hallway.  The arrow leads us to the reception desk; again, there are no corpses or zombies, but the streaks and splatters of blood across the desk and walls tells me that there used to be people here.  The NPC begins to weep quietly, but I ignore her as I examine the fire extinguisher the all-knowing arrow has led me to.  The tutorial information box has appeared over the extinguisher, instructing me to take and equip it as a weapon.  "Are you serious?" I mutter quietly as I lean forward to squint at it.  I have to use this as my tutorial weapon?

"Serious about what?"  I yelp and jerk aside at the little voice at my elbow.  The NPC was standing right behind me, also staring at the fire extinguisher; she gazes up at me with curious eyes, making her look way too childlike for her minimum forty years of age.  "What's wrong?"

I have to bite my tongue to keep from yelling at her.  "You startled me.  Please don't look over my shoulder."  She nods and scurries off to the receptionist's desk.  I cannot tell if she's legitimately searching for things to help us or if she's just trying to look busy.  Either way, she's out of my hair.  I ignore the extinguisher for the time being and continue my search for a better weapon.  In the receptionist's desk, between the desk and its bottom drawer, is a broken yardstick.  It's terrible, but it's better than the bulky heavy tube of freezing foam the tutorial demands I use.  I grab at it, but my hand goes right through it as if it's a hologram in a space pirate game.  I swipe at it again, then sigh heavily and turn away.  Maybe after the tutorial I can try again, but for now, it's a moot point.  I search the other drawers to find nothing but a locked drawer.  I try every key on the key ring, but none of them open it.  I make a mental note to try to find the receptionist's corpse (or shambling body; either works) and step away from the desk with a heavy sigh.  "Extinguisher it is, then."

It takes nearly four jerks before the extinguisher finally comes free.  I stagger backward at the sudden awkward bulk of weight that is now shifted to the heart of my chest.  I thought I hated it when I first saw it, but now that I actually have it in my possession, I absolutely loathe it.  If this was a fantasy game, this would be the equivalent of a two handed warhammer.