Socio

Things were so much simpler before, even if they were boring. Go to school, get A's, trudge through life and attempt to meet everyone’s expectations. Bosses, teachers, parents, professors But unfortunately for most, things always end up changing. Life now was risky, painful, full of actual obstacles that could take your life. The environment was deadlier, cleaner, and all around.. Better. He was free now, free from the social contract he didn’t even sign. Free of expectations and let downs; and no one could stop him from doing all those things he wanted to do before. Piss in the fountain, kick the dog, rape the children, kill the neighbor and fuck his wife. It. was. ALL. Open.... Every.. Single.. Bit. And the zeds, they were just there for target practice. Fun to shoot at and maime, useful to use. Furthermore, they didn't cry out, or care. You didn't put one down until you shot it in the head, so you could break its arm without it screaming and alerting others like the most dangerous game might. All it did was moan and gurgle.. Well, the moaning might have been coming from him. Feeling the bone snap, seeing it move out of the skin... It was bliss. The new world, to him, was. . Perfect. Get bored of one place, you moved on to the next. You could steal whatever you wanted from anywhere you wanted at any time. He even met a single person on Call of Duty once, when he stopped at a house with a generator Ah, fun times, fun times. Such fun goddamn times. Before the outbreak, all he did was desire. Desire to kick in the head of the little fucking brat who wouldn’t shut up. DESIRE to steal someone's money just to burn it with their body and home. But now.. Now he could do what he wanted. Get challenges that excited him, open forbidden doors mankind would have never let him open. Before he could help it, his mind wandered to the day it started. Sitting on the fountain, trying to trick Kate into bending over. His cover friend Nathan talking to his parents at the gate.. If he would have left anyone alive, it would have been him. But there lay the irony. Nathan was the first infected. Blood shot from his neck like a firehose and mesmerised the sociopath on the fountain into staring, taking in the cadaverous complexion of the body losing blood and body that attacked the body losing blood. It took him a minute to run, being way too infatuated with the gruesomeness and panic of the place. Everyone was running but him.. That’s probably why it spread so quick. After quite a few people, he bolted, running far and fast. At that point it was a free for all, fuck his family. Not literally, they were too ugly to bang. Finally, after malicious and slightly sexual thoughts about the one hot aunt he had, he brought his mind back to the present. To the scope inches from his face, the yellow dress he saw causing it to scowl almost immediately. Dumb bitch couldn’t of been caught in something more red, or revealing? A sigh escaped his lips, a familiar tug in his head trying to push him to shoot now. Fortunately no one was around to hear the exasperation, and the blanket that was pulled over his figure hid him from sight. Even when he squeezed his trigger, the silencer..suppressor- whatever the hell you want to call it- turning a bang that would ring out for miles into a ‘pew’ that could barely be heard over a flapping flag. Not that it mattered too much.He knew no one would survive to try and find him anyways. The rounds he used were hollow point, specially made to fragment on impact and tear up the tissue. There was so field patching a wound like that- and before all of this happened, he was already good with a bow. Amazing in fact. With a pistol, he was better than most veteran gun nuts, the technicalities behind it being easily grasped by his constantly moving brain. He took natural talent to shooting .. Not useful before, but it helped a lot after everything went to shit. The scope he stared into swayed slightly with his breath, making everything seem twenty times closer than it actually was. At his side were three more just in case magazines- backups for if more popped up from the woodwork or something like that- and one just in case times five magazine, with explosive rounds that could punch through an armored car's tires instantly. . He only had twelve explosive rounds, so he was extra cautious with them.. Minus the three he used to blow up gas stations, those didn’t count. “ Stop thinking twit. “ The inner voice lulled him into his senses once more, making him adjust to a more propped position. He now had his scope adjusted, putting his hand flat up into the air the feel the wind direction... Three MPH, north east. Looking through the scope, he was about one hundred and thirty eight yards.. Easy . Licking his lips, he looked deep into the scope, like it just failed a cavity search. This ‘rival’ group had four people, three male and one female. The female was a prisoner of sorts, kept for fucking n’ entertainment and what not. She was in a cage, one with a large lock holding the door to the edge, the bars both vertical and horizontal so she couldn't reach far through.. Smart. There was even a bit of a wetness on it, where the girl started peeing in order to corrode away the bars.. a dull hope, a dull hope indeed. But it was almost funny to think that she was trapped in there and her only chance at the outside was a piss poor excuse for hope. ( Badum tss) . For moving her, and more importantly whatever goods they had, was a large military style cargo truck.. Sighing, he decided it was time to act. He was bored of observing, and bored of watching the girl piss on the bars when the men weren't looking. Pulling his rifle up and into his shoulder, he checked everything around them.. No zeds. But being out in the open was stupid. All three of the men were at a table, playing poker, two of them lined up, and a third acrossed from them. One of the two was the " leader " shouting orders whenever he could. . He was the first target. And the one behind him was the first target as well. Now was the time.. He had to make one of them suffer, save the damsel in distress.. And make her watch in excitement and horror. Lining up the sight on the leader, who was bald and covered in tattoos- mid forties, maybe.. Buff, and wearing riot gear to protect him from zed bites. But that's not what would end him. Funny how things work out like that. Behind him was his PIC, the one he always raped the woman with. Black hair that was cut into a buzz, wearing riot gear from a police station they must have raided some time back. With the wind the way it was.. He pulled over, locking onto the third man. He seemed to have a good soul, sneaking the woman extra rations now and then, never joining in on rape night.. Ah, well. He should have lived while he could’ve. Now was time for action. The sniper brought his scope up and to the right of the leader's head. . It would hit. Closing his gray hued eyes briefly, he breathed out, steadying himself. And then opened them, holding his breath and squeezing the trigger. It was instant. The bald man's head exploded, just as he revealed a royal flush.. That sucks, shitty luck.. Ha. The one beside him, with the military style haircuts eyes widened, the left of his throat spewing out blood further than Nathan did day one. Impressive. Well, multiple parts of it created one stream. The fragments of the bullet he shot tore through the man's skull, and into the other man's throat , as he hoped. The third man, with long brown hair that was tied back in a ponytail gasped, his mind processing what happened, as he was in mid facepalm when he was called on his bluff.. And now, it didn't matter. The shooter gave him enough time to know he was next and start running, before a bullet went through his spine. it was funny as hell, watching him roll around, gasping for air as the life slipped from his kind eyes.. That was two of his clip that held five bullets. Turning and focusing, he saw the woman in the cage, her expression combining horror and happiness into some contorted ugly horpiness. His third bullet went right through the lock that held the door- opening it. Standing still for a moment she took a gander in his direction, mouthing something.. It was either “Thank you,” or “Fuck you.”.. Could go either way, really The hope in her eyes was gone as he launched his third bullet through her kneecap, making her fall to the ground and scream. That HAAAD to hurt- he would have busted out gut laughing if he didn’t get scolded by his inner voice, " Take her out. " One more squeeze, the ‘pft’ of his weapon sounding, and then silence... Not a sound was made, not a soul saw it but him, and that's what sent him into his next fit of laughter.. “ WHAT FUN, WHAT FUN!! “ The voice laughed along with him, complimenting him on his sins. Looking up, the man sang to the lord, apologising for what he did. Only, he wasn't sorry. He did believe in god, he just didn't care about what happened after death. If need be, he was going to hell to put a round through the devil's ass and take his place on the throne. His laughter died down a bit as he went down the fire escape and into the tall building he was on, making his way to the the ground below. After reloading his clip, of course, and placing his extra magazines in his backpack, as well as his blanket that hid his position. His sniper had a strap, and was hanging on a shoulder over his back. On either leg of his form were pistols, one a P95, the other a Strong Ruger; nine millimeter. But it didn't stop there. On the belt of his jeans was a long quickdraw knife, military. That was just his equipment that could be seen. He had clothes, a lot of ammo, extra clips, and one more pistol in his backpack. The smile still plastered to his face, he found himself face to face with a mirror. Been a minute since he looked at himself. Long dark black messy hair that was unevenly cut, barely coming down to his eyes. His eyes both a deep gray- very sadistic, yet intelligent at the same time.. Almost predatory. His skin was paleish- having very little tan as he mostly operated at night or when it rained.. He was a bit of a pluviophile and nyctophile. He had a fondness of both settings he operated in greatly, having loved them both since he was little. Night vision made it possible to work- and he also had thermal, just in case. . The 38 special was rather tricked out- minus the suppressor that was now in his backpack. ANYWAYS, he was a bit tall, around six two and rather well toned- though that wouldn’t show.. He had to be in order to live, and carry so much equipment. His upper half was covered by a hoodie similar to that in assassin’s creed- but slightly darker. Stolen from a hot topic at some point. It wasn’t his favorite game, but it did cover his head when he wanted to not be seen, or when it was raining. It had slight bits of gray, as to go with the transition of color in the actual hoodie in the game. His long legs were covered by black jeans, also good for not being seen. His shoes were black, and lightweight, easy to jump around with, since he had to so often. His lips were curved into a smile- his thoughts returning to the time before, blasting through them, hearing the blood and bullets hit the concrete at high speeds behind them.. He could never have done that before. Reaching the ground of the office building he was in he went over to the corpses camp, stealing whatever supplies he needed. Food that wouldn't rot, ammo, water, lube (as he was almost out)- Then pissed on the corpse of the female, for a guaranteed ticket into Hades. Afterwards, he marched on, trying to find some place to lay low. Somewhere dark and peaceful. But these guys might have friends, so logic dictated him to hoof it on the highway for a bit.. But the brains splattering, the girl’s false hope.. It was all fresh in his mind, all had him turned on. “ First thing I’ll do when I get there is me. “ His mouth echoed his thoughts as he walked, soon he began humming to himself, pulling some headphones and a stolen iPod out of his bag, somehow still working. He stole it before all this, but it had some okay music- keeping him occupied so he hopefully didn't think about going off looking for someone else to slaughter.. Ha, the look in that bitch’s eyes was priceless. He would do anything to see it again.. Luckily he had an alright memory, so he could savor it always. The song Raindrops by BJ Thomas played through his mind as he walked, the Beats he had on producing an amazing sound; the voice he had in his head singing along and conversing with him. He was schizophrenic. He knew since he was eight, but now the voice egged him on, told him how to go about things, kept him alive, even... Before they used pills to silence it. Called him a freak because of it- but now.. Now, the voices were his best friend.