Random scribblings at one-thirty in the morning.

With the night settling in, rain still flowing down from the dark storm clouds above, Jake knew he was running out of time. The town he was suppose to meet Victoria and Alek at was still a huge ways off, but with his flashlight still lodged in the head of the zombie about a quarter mile back he couldn't keep track of the road. Things were bad, really bad. He didn't think Alek would wait for him, and if that was the case, Victoria would follow Alek instead of sticking around for someone who was probably dead. That kind of thinking just made him want to give up.

He shook his head, pushing himself harder, running down what looked like the clearest section of road in between the forest's large branches. The rain pounded harder, wind shoving against his chest, slowing him down. He clenched his hands, wishing he had a gun to grip his hand around, to provide some kind of familiar comfort in this situation. But even then, he figured it wouldn't do much more than blow his knee cap off with how hard his hand would be tightened around that gun. Then, well he'd be fucking dinner, and all that he'd done so far would have been a waste, all the way up to his chest cavity being torn open from the ribs inwards.

The thought chilled his veins, but he shrugged this off, as well, continuing his run, forcing his legs to shove one foot in front of the other despite how sore they were feeling. His eyes tightened shut and his stomach clenched down on itself, the empty insides having nothing to offer anyways in an attempt to push it back up. He kept running until his face slammed up against the metal sign that said 'Welcome to Hillsburrow'.

He yelped in surprise, falling back from the impact, hitting shoulders and ass first into the rocks and mud, eyes opened wide and staring at the sign. It was covered in blood, several internal organs half chewed and hanging from the sides. Slabs of flesh and bone were on the wooden  legs holding up the sign,  nailed in with words inscribed. He wanted to read, assuming maybe they had importance to them. Then again, maybe they were just the names of the people eaten there. Something not.. good, or as good as skin nailed and scribbled on a sigh could be.

He glanced at them, sighing as he pushed himself up, walking off into town, hands grabbing at his jacket and pushing them against his chest, covering up from the rain. He couldn't hear anything with all the rain, but out of the corner of his eye he could see a small cabin in the town, lights on in the two story place, hidden but visible enough to show that someone lived there. Maybe...

"Victoria..." He whispered to himself, rushing off to the house. He could hear a faint noise, unintelligible, hidden by the rain and thickness of the walls, but it didn't sound pleasant. He moved back a single step, raising his leg before kicking forward, the door flying in. His eyes widened as he saw what was happening, his hands immediately going for the nearest objects, a 12-gauge resting by the side of the door, raising up and taking aim.