Neverender
April 5th, 2009, 10:52 PM
Well thats the title of this story, which i wrote in 3 hours for Language class.
A man by the name of John Fitzgerald, who was an acclaimed documentary filmmaker for the CBC had arrived in the small Siberian village of Zabrovst-Byelgoransk, with the intention of photographing an intact and potentially cloneable sabre-tooth tiger carcass frozen in ice. The tiger was reported to be at least 25,000 years old. However, another man in his mid-twenties had been found with the carcass, also frozen in ice. His clothes had looked to be that of a 16th century Russian Cossack. Although the shot was to take place in July, Fitzgerald had arrived in February of that year with an advance team to check out the carcasses of both the man and the tiger when they were first found, and to familiarize himself and his team with the locals/area. Fitzgerald believed that the human would only spend up a few minutes in his documentary, but he requested that the human be stored in the warming lab with the tiger until his return. Fitzgerald and his team then returned to Toronto for a much needed rest. On June 14th, a preparation team had arrived to ready the area for Fitzgerald’s arrival. That was the last time any of them were heard from again.
When Fitzgerald had arrived via helicopter with the rest of his crew on July 1st, he found that all 13 buildings on site to be deserted. There were signs of forced entry and violence throughout the entire area. When Fitzgerald’s team investigated the first building they found the door ripped from its hinges while on the inside bits of tooth and brain clung to the walls while the inside was splattered with dried blood. There were smashed windows and upturned furniture covering the room. Instantly their attention was diverted when from outside they heard a bloodcurdling scream. The team ran back to their helicopter where they found thirty-six ghouls – zombies – including local villagers, missing members of their own advance team and the 16th century Cossack who had been frozen in ice for a hundred years feasting on the pilots. Fitzgerald didn’t know what he was seeing, but he knew enough to run for his life. Fitzgerald and his soundman –Canning– his cameraman – Lawson – his field specialist – Izotov – and his good friend who he had brought along with him – Render – had no supplies, no weapons, and being in the middle of the Siberian wastelands, nowhere to run for help.
The filmmakers sought refuge in the farthest place they saw away from the zombie hoard shuffling towards them; an old barn on the far edge of town. When they got there they grabbed what weapons they could. An axe, a broom, sledgehammer, several smaller tools and a 12-guage double-barrel shotgun with 8 rounds; grabbed 2 pails of water; whatever food they could find and brought it all upstairs. Fitzgerald then decided that they must destroy the stairs. After 2 hours of whacking at the old stairs they finally had destroyed them. But with the uninviting prospect of another flight of stairs to knock out and the slow moving zombie hoards beating through the door with their fists, the team grabbed a large piece of plywood and nailed it to the other stairs, making it so that the zombies would not be able to get footing and would tumble down or be easy to push off with the broom. The platform they were sitting on was about 10 feet above the zombies (making the shotgun useless at range) and about 2 metres deep to the wall and 4 metres across. With the writhing hoard of the undead at their feet – each attempting to climb up the stairs, none realizing that they were unable to do so, their primitive brains based entirely on instinct, no capacity to learn or realize things happening in their surroundings – escape was impossible. The team slept with cotton stuffed in their ears, since the non-stop hellish moan coming from all the zombies would be enough to drive many insane. After 3 days of taking turns pushing the zombies down with the broom, one managed to grab the handle, (which was weak from the days of stress it had been subject to) snapping it. The sudden imbalance sent Lawson who had been holding the broom to go sliding down the stairs and knock Canning and the shotgun to the ground while Lawson’s newly pointed handle went crashing through the skull of another ghoul who had been climbing up the stairs, killing it. Lawson threw the handle back onto the platform and scrambled back up. The team had discovered a way to finally kill the zombies, however they were beginning to close it on Canning. With the zombies just feet away, he shot twice, the first blowing a ghoul back, killing it when shrapnel entered the brain, while the second creating a wall of lead sending several zombies sprawling. But now, he was out of ammo. As the fiends closed in on him, what was left of the team heard the screams of their comrade as he was devoured. But the team now knew of a way to dispose of the monsters below. Now, instead of defending from the cannibals, they encouraged them. And each time one would get close enough to attack they would receive a devastating blow to the head from the teams axe. When they finally lost this weapon (stuck in the skull of a now dead attacker) they resorted to the sledgehammer. When its handle broke, the end blew through the plywood, loosening it greatly. The next zombie that attempted to climb up it broke the plywood off the stairs completely, causing him and the plywood to go sliding down the stairs. With the stairs now climbable, the crew members watched in horror as the undead made their way up the stairs. Izotov said to the rest of the team in his thick Russian accent, that he will stay and guard the stairs and told Render, Lawson and Fitzgerald to jump. Lawson was the first to go. He landed on his arm, breaking it and in the 10-foot-fall, hit his head, sending him staggering. Render then made a leap for it. He hit the ground on his back, bounced and rolled to a dead stop. Fitzgerald stayed with Izotov. The hellish moan grew into a deafening cacophony, so loud that Izotov had to hold his ears shut, letting go of the crowbar he happened to be holding. Without this wonderful clubbing device, he was thrown to the floor and devoured by the fiends. In a last ditch effort to save himself, he made like greased lightning out the window, got his leg caught on a nail, landed on his feet and broke both his legs. As the screams of his fallen comrade faded, the zombies began pouring out the window. In wincing pain, Fitzgerald crawled as fast as he could towards Lawson; who had lost consciousness. Then he felt something grab his leg, and pull back with a great heave. The pain was excruciating. His eyes full of fear. The mass of zombies then fell upon him. The screams to come from him echoed around the wasteland for miles.
A man by the name of John Fitzgerald, who was an acclaimed documentary filmmaker for the CBC had arrived in the small Siberian village of Zabrovst-Byelgoransk, with the intention of photographing an intact and potentially cloneable sabre-tooth tiger carcass frozen in ice. The tiger was reported to be at least 25,000 years old. However, another man in his mid-twenties had been found with the carcass, also frozen in ice. His clothes had looked to be that of a 16th century Russian Cossack. Although the shot was to take place in July, Fitzgerald had arrived in February of that year with an advance team to check out the carcasses of both the man and the tiger when they were first found, and to familiarize himself and his team with the locals/area. Fitzgerald believed that the human would only spend up a few minutes in his documentary, but he requested that the human be stored in the warming lab with the tiger until his return. Fitzgerald and his team then returned to Toronto for a much needed rest. On June 14th, a preparation team had arrived to ready the area for Fitzgerald’s arrival. That was the last time any of them were heard from again.
When Fitzgerald had arrived via helicopter with the rest of his crew on July 1st, he found that all 13 buildings on site to be deserted. There were signs of forced entry and violence throughout the entire area. When Fitzgerald’s team investigated the first building they found the door ripped from its hinges while on the inside bits of tooth and brain clung to the walls while the inside was splattered with dried blood. There were smashed windows and upturned furniture covering the room. Instantly their attention was diverted when from outside they heard a bloodcurdling scream. The team ran back to their helicopter where they found thirty-six ghouls – zombies – including local villagers, missing members of their own advance team and the 16th century Cossack who had been frozen in ice for a hundred years feasting on the pilots. Fitzgerald didn’t know what he was seeing, but he knew enough to run for his life. Fitzgerald and his soundman –Canning– his cameraman – Lawson – his field specialist – Izotov – and his good friend who he had brought along with him – Render – had no supplies, no weapons, and being in the middle of the Siberian wastelands, nowhere to run for help.
The filmmakers sought refuge in the farthest place they saw away from the zombie hoard shuffling towards them; an old barn on the far edge of town. When they got there they grabbed what weapons they could. An axe, a broom, sledgehammer, several smaller tools and a 12-guage double-barrel shotgun with 8 rounds; grabbed 2 pails of water; whatever food they could find and brought it all upstairs. Fitzgerald then decided that they must destroy the stairs. After 2 hours of whacking at the old stairs they finally had destroyed them. But with the uninviting prospect of another flight of stairs to knock out and the slow moving zombie hoards beating through the door with their fists, the team grabbed a large piece of plywood and nailed it to the other stairs, making it so that the zombies would not be able to get footing and would tumble down or be easy to push off with the broom. The platform they were sitting on was about 10 feet above the zombies (making the shotgun useless at range) and about 2 metres deep to the wall and 4 metres across. With the writhing hoard of the undead at their feet – each attempting to climb up the stairs, none realizing that they were unable to do so, their primitive brains based entirely on instinct, no capacity to learn or realize things happening in their surroundings – escape was impossible. The team slept with cotton stuffed in their ears, since the non-stop hellish moan coming from all the zombies would be enough to drive many insane. After 3 days of taking turns pushing the zombies down with the broom, one managed to grab the handle, (which was weak from the days of stress it had been subject to) snapping it. The sudden imbalance sent Lawson who had been holding the broom to go sliding down the stairs and knock Canning and the shotgun to the ground while Lawson’s newly pointed handle went crashing through the skull of another ghoul who had been climbing up the stairs, killing it. Lawson threw the handle back onto the platform and scrambled back up. The team had discovered a way to finally kill the zombies, however they were beginning to close it on Canning. With the zombies just feet away, he shot twice, the first blowing a ghoul back, killing it when shrapnel entered the brain, while the second creating a wall of lead sending several zombies sprawling. But now, he was out of ammo. As the fiends closed in on him, what was left of the team heard the screams of their comrade as he was devoured. But the team now knew of a way to dispose of the monsters below. Now, instead of defending from the cannibals, they encouraged them. And each time one would get close enough to attack they would receive a devastating blow to the head from the teams axe. When they finally lost this weapon (stuck in the skull of a now dead attacker) they resorted to the sledgehammer. When its handle broke, the end blew through the plywood, loosening it greatly. The next zombie that attempted to climb up it broke the plywood off the stairs completely, causing him and the plywood to go sliding down the stairs. With the stairs now climbable, the crew members watched in horror as the undead made their way up the stairs. Izotov said to the rest of the team in his thick Russian accent, that he will stay and guard the stairs and told Render, Lawson and Fitzgerald to jump. Lawson was the first to go. He landed on his arm, breaking it and in the 10-foot-fall, hit his head, sending him staggering. Render then made a leap for it. He hit the ground on his back, bounced and rolled to a dead stop. Fitzgerald stayed with Izotov. The hellish moan grew into a deafening cacophony, so loud that Izotov had to hold his ears shut, letting go of the crowbar he happened to be holding. Without this wonderful clubbing device, he was thrown to the floor and devoured by the fiends. In a last ditch effort to save himself, he made like greased lightning out the window, got his leg caught on a nail, landed on his feet and broke both his legs. As the screams of his fallen comrade faded, the zombies began pouring out the window. In wincing pain, Fitzgerald crawled as fast as he could towards Lawson; who had lost consciousness. Then he felt something grab his leg, and pull back with a great heave. The pain was excruciating. His eyes full of fear. The mass of zombies then fell upon him. The screams to come from him echoed around the wasteland for miles.