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S. WINchester ([info]i_speaklatin) wrote in [info]we_coexist,
@ 2008-11-11 15:54:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:angel, dean winchester, sam winchester, zombies

And you thought zombie was a metaphor. [Open, see note. Attn: Dean/Xanadu?]
Demon blood infected a human body in much the same way a virus did. It took over some things and warped others, changing the mind and its capabilities with a decidedly inhuman potency. No one knew if it affected the soul or not, but it was impossible not to see what a small amount of demon blood could do to a human--and what, in turn, that human could do to demons. That virus made angels quake, and it was something that no mortal or immortal being understood completely.

The virus that killed Sam was something else. It was, in some ways, more potent than the demon blood. It moved quicker and inhibited action rather than encouraged it. However, being dead did not stop Sam from being part demon. Indeed, the two viruses warred with each other in such a way that the thing that had been Sam Winchester was now a thing apart. It did not have identity. Being dead, it did not have memory, either. However, it had something its fellows did not.

Those others did not truly have a consciousness (if one followed the Cogito ergo sum theory: I think, therefore I am) because those zombies did not think. Instead, they hungered. To go from point A to point B, they would follow a straight line until stopped, be it through rivers, over obstacles, into buildings, ad nauseam. The thing that used to be Sam Winchester also hungered, but it hungered so much more that it was willing to wait, to focus, until the demon and the virus wanted the same thing.

A glazed, dead eye turned and watched the black car speed away without recognition. The other eye did not move, stained with red and half closed. Cracked blood caked that side of its face, and colorful smears of blue imprinted the edge of its mouth into a permanent sneer. Slowly but implacably, the form limped forward. Its right leg did not work like its left, but that did not matter as long as it, as a whole, could move forward. It followed the black burnt rubber trail of the car, and when that ran out, it kept going, lurching, dragging, forward and on, following a trail that the hunger made bright and tempting.

There were others too. They did not follow him or the trail. Instead, they moved as water, going where the buildings separated into spaces and stopping when they were blocked to flow around or over. They came after the first thing because its path was the easiest.

The thing that had been Sam Winchester did not go around. It would not be blocked. It went through. An abandoned car lay askew in the road before it, and as the thing limped forward, the car screeched aside as if shoved by a giant invisible hand. Sparks flew from the friction of metal on pavement and singed the torn jacket on the thing's back. A flame caught, and it burned one jacket sleeve to ash in moments. Without warning, the flames went out, choked of oxygen in one potent shift of focus. Smoke curled up from the thing's charred arm and chest. It did not notice.

Now an instrument of simple and pure demonic purpose, it continued forward, hungry.

[OOC Note: This can be open, just don't completely destroy Sam in the physical way, please. Be aware this zombie is both relatively intelligent and telekinetic; he's got lots of other zombies with him, even if they aren't choreographed. xD]



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[info]i_speaklatin
2008-11-27 11:18 pm UTC (link)
Angel's toes dragged through the gooey pavement as the unidentifiable force at the first zombie's command grasped him and shook, like a terrier with a rat.

The red dead eyes turned to Dean as he screamed, entirely without comprehension. Sam's hand twitched, as if he was batting away a fly from just in front of his face, and Angel was tossed away carelessly. The familiar form tipped his head to one side and moved toward Dean with a strange, narrow expression on his face, recognizable despite the blood and the burns. "Dead," the zombie said. Maybe he was referring to himself, maybe to Dean. It didn't really matter. "Dead."

Then he slowly lifted his hand, staring down the gun barrel at his brother, ready to crush him where he stood--then stopped. There was a pause. Another tip of his head, as if listening to some silent call. An undeniable calm spread over his features, and they went slack with the listening. His hand dropped.

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[info]i_demonhunt
2008-12-02 07:06 pm UTC (link)
Dean watched as Angel was flicked away like a meaningless little bug. Dean hadn't realized just how powerful his brother could be. And a bit of fear slapped through his body, but only for a moment.

Dean heard the word twice and at first he thought Sam was talking about himself. As if trying to tell him to give up on him, but Dean would never do that. Then he thought of hell after the second word. He should have been dead. Still dead. He was pulled out of hell.

Dean stared at his brother, determined to shoot him to slow him down but then Sam was stopping and he was tipping his head as if someone was calling him. He then looked around and saw others doing the same, stopping and looking up and off. He turned around, looking before he looked back to his brother, dropping his arms.

What the hell was going on. And then faintly, something on a radio, possibly a TV, an announcement. The only thing heard was cure.

Cure

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