General RP Zombies and Mistrust

As the staff whipped down into the zombies head, punching into its skull, the creatures head jerked aside, grasping out at Reo. The horror howling shortly as it put up the fight, it's brains still functional enough to try. The lowest bit of bestial savagery making it claw and push, kicking and dragging, scrapping noisily in the dust and dirt. The sounds outside were coming again, getting gathered....
 
"I'm not an amateur." The stalker said as they drew in, pulling the sickle. In the flash, they had slashed the walkers belly open, spilling rotting viscera and gore from God knows what or whoever they consumed. They used the sickle to rip out a section of skin, flaying it like paper to rub the blood on their coat, underneath on their clothing, careful not to use their right arm.
 
"Survival beats new." The stranger said as the small group drained and growled, starting to reveal themselves from the nearby alleys, body checking the doors an, grinding them open. The stranger stood statue still, the horde was smaller, 8 bodies deep, probably the previous shoppers that used to come here, or wanderers past that broke away from the greater horde in the area.
 
Reo sighs softly, going quiet. He shuffles slightly, glancing at the stranger and then the hoard. He goes still and quiet, holding his staff still, ready to spring into action if the zombies found them out. He watches pilot slowly lay down and sprawl across the floor, out of the way, staying olow and silent.
 
The walkers edged onto the shop, groaning and droning, grumbling and wandering. They were more passive, unaware...one tripped at the corspe of theor fallen brethren. It's jaw cracking again the floor, but it only sat up, crawling about painlessly, it jaw dangling broken. The walkers passed by, stopping and lulling about...though the crawler shuffled towards the stranger slowly, pulling itself little by little towards them.
 
As the walker approached, the stalker looked down, a faint trace of red seeping down their arm, dropping off a finger. They held still, their other hand gripping the sickle, silently raising , ready to slash for the brain stem of the zombie. They didn't take an eye off it, the others still seeking, sniffling, sensing the faint trace if living flesh.
 
Reo lifts the staff, close enough for the longer reaching weapons to jab through the back of the skull and come out between the zombie's eyes. He narrows his eyes, holding his breath as he slowly lowers the body before it thuds.

"We fight. There's only eight. We'll be fine." He glances down at the guy's arm, "And I can patch that for you."
 
The walkers corpse sagged between them, the other zombies picking up on the crunch of bone. Turning in their direction. "We'll see." The stalker said as the monsters started to shambles towards them, the killer pushed by Reo, the sickle hooking out and slashing into the side of the zombies neck, then twisted, severing its brain stem.
 
The push made the zombie stagger aside, but it held onto the staff, unfeeling, unflinching strength pushed against it, leaning in to try to bite at Reo. A splash if blood ripped out of the the horrors next, is head rolling off as it toppled over. The scout flicking the sickle clean and backing away from the next zombie. "Work towards the windows, we don't have to scuffle up in here long" the scout said as they maneuvered, trying to hold atleast the majority of zombies in line of sight. The water in the back would have to wait.
 
"I'm right handed, bleeding, and haven't eaten in 3 nights. Bite me for being oriented to conservation of my effort-" The stalker said as they raked the sickle downwards, stabbing it into the head of one if the other zombies, forcing it around and pushing it into another to let them flail and trip into each other. The impaled zombie only kept moving forward, walking deeper and deeper to try to grab hold of Reo.
 
"You forgetting how this all started or are you just an ass?" The stalker asked as they backed away, deftly stepping back and climbing out of the window sill, mantling over the glass remnants. They eyed the street, shifting low already as they listened, passed the shuffling and sounds behind them, but not picking up on any more horde or pack noises.
 

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