Head on to the hospital anyway. Maybe there's something they can do.

From Create Your Own Story

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You push through the sorrow, and push your car through the rain. You curse yourself for letting things get to this point, but on your drive regardless.
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You push through the sorrow, and push your car through the rain. You curse yourself for letting things get to this point, but on you drive regardless.
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When you finally pull into the Hospital, you can't believe what you're seeing. Dozens of people, faces marred by those sores like the guy at the gas station, are swarming the parking lot. Some of them are dragging corpses, and as lightning flashes over head, you can see that all of them are carrying weapons of some sort.  
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When you finally pull into the Hospital, you can't believe what you're seeing. Dozens of people, faces marred by those sores like the guy at the gas station, are swarming the parking lot. Some of them are dragging corpses, and as lightning flashes overhead, you can see that all of them are carrying weapons of some sort.  
You throw the car in reverse, and turn to look through the back window. Through the rain, you do the best you can getting back onto the street. As you pull out of the lot, something smashes through your front window and nails you in the chest. In shock, you turn to survey the damage.
You throw the car in reverse, and turn to look through the back window. Through the rain, you do the best you can getting back onto the street. As you pull out of the lot, something smashes through your front window and nails you in the chest. In shock, you turn to survey the damage.
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You never make it out of the lot alive.
You never make it out of the lot alive.
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[[Category:The End of the World]]

Current revision as of 01:38, 24 June 2016

You push through the sorrow, and push your car through the rain. You curse yourself for letting things get to this point, but on you drive regardless.

When you finally pull into the Hospital, you can't believe what you're seeing. Dozens of people, faces marred by those sores like the guy at the gas station, are swarming the parking lot. Some of them are dragging corpses, and as lightning flashes overhead, you can see that all of them are carrying weapons of some sort.

You throw the car in reverse, and turn to look through the back window. Through the rain, you do the best you can getting back onto the street. As you pull out of the lot, something smashes through your front window and nails you in the chest. In shock, you turn to survey the damage.

A large chunk of concrete lays in your bloody lap. Your entire body is peppered with little slivers of glass, and your flesh burns from the wounds. You begin to scream, and it draws the attention of everything in the lot. The woman at the gas station was right; you shouldn't have come here.

You never make it out of the lot alive.

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