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Project Dakota: Rising of the dead
Project Dakota: Rising of the dead
Author: Khalila

Prologue

Author: Khalila
last update Last Updated: 2022-08-24 14:14:36

‎My name is Emily Moss Dakota. I am a scientist who loves her job so damn much. People sometimes claim I do crazy stuff but I say I love to make the impossible possible.

‎I've been in this field for over thirty years and I've aided in a lot of disease solving cases in the world.

‎Well, presently I'm working on a project that could either end my career or make me the most important scientist the world has ever seen.

‎Project Dakota is my baby. The project  I put my life on the line for and let's face it it is my life.

‎Presently, I'm in my lab where I have been for three days trying to make this project work at all cost.

‎The Damn tap kept dripping at I tried to concentrate which was fucking with my mental. Moving and calculating on caffeine for three days isn't making things any better.

‎Sighing, I tapped my pen anxiously on the table. The sound kept getting to me accompanied by the loud cling sound the clock made.

‎"Fuck!!!" I yelled as I slammed my journal shut. I go on my feet and walked to the clock. Took the batteries and angrily ripped it out.

‎"Chill doc" a daunting voice said behind me which made me roll my eyes.

‎"I'm being as chill as possible Carter" I said walking back to my seat.

‎"Yeah sure" he chuckled as he walked to where I was and looked over my shoulder into my book. He knows I despise it when he does this.

‎" You know you haven't tried the test for today right?" He said which made me shift uncomfortably in my seat.

‎"Yes Carter I know and that's what I'm trying to do"

‎"By scribbling numbers?"

‎"How on earth are you a scientist again?" I asked and he chuckled which made me mad.

‎"Well Good luck Doc " he said as he walked out of the room. Sighing, I stood and walked towards my drawer.

‎"Please work" I closed my eyes as I took out the syringe and walked to the door.

‎ I punched in the combination of the door and it buzzed opened.

‎ I walked towards the test subject and made sure it was well strapped in. I took the syringe and pressed it into the skin and I watched as the contents went into the subject.

‎"Oh please work" I said as I stepped back. 5 minutes. I waited as I watched closely. 4 minutes and 30 seconds. I heard a grunt. Then, the subject began to shake.

‎ I ran out of the room and watched behind the glass as the subject shook and grunted. The relief I felt was surreal. I wanted to scream in happiness as I watched the subject's eyes begin to open .

‎"Yes! Yes!" I said in delight but everything came to a stop. Shit.

‎I sighed in pure frustration as I cursed beneath my breathe. I turned in defeat and walked back to my lab.

‎Did I lock the door?. I guess I did cause going back to check and look at the subject was not going to do me well.

‎I took my jacket and walked out of the lab.

‎"Carter.. I'll be heading home" he lifted his head and pushed his glasses back.

‎"Another failed project huh?"

‎"See you tomorrow Carter" I said walking out of the lab not looking back. As I walked, I could only see one thing. His face.

‎I slammed my hands on my side drawer sitting up suddenly. My phone was ringing on and on no matter how much I declined without opening my eyes. But now, I had to.

‎Who the hell calls someone at... I looked at the clock on my side drawer. It's 2 am. Oh my God. 2 am?.

‎"Hello" I said obviously pissed.

‎"Doctor.... Dakota... The project....the .." I heard a loud crash. Which made me more alert. What the hell is happening.

‎"Carter!" I said but I kept hearing crashes and screams. What the hell!!. I jumped out of bed, grabbed a coat and my keys and rushed out of my house.

‎ The lab was suspiciously quiet when  I arrived. There were cars by the parking lot but no one was there. I'm sure my other colleagues were there.

‎I quietly walked towards the building and opened the door slowly. I nearly screamed from the sight before me.

‎Everything was broken, trashed and disorganized. My while body froze as I looked to the floor.

‎ I walked into the first room and let out a gasp as I saw Otis my colleague covered up in blood. Half of his face was chewed out, he insides where everywhere and he just looked too gross to look at.

‎ I swallowed the vomit that rose in my throat as my eyes watered. What the hell happened.

‎My whole body began to shake as I took more steps carefully.

‎"Anyone....." I heard a low voice call. I quickly ran towards the voice and Carter was laying there half dead with his arm bleeding.

‎"Jesus Carter!!" I screamed as I looked at him. He looked pale very pale "oh my God.."

‎"Sh.... He will hear you.." he said slowly shifting on the wall he was leaning on.

‎"Who?"

‎"The mo....mon....monster you created" he said with spite in his tone. His eyes were dark and his body ..oh his body I couldn't look down because of how terrified I was. "we warned you .. Emily we said it was a bad idea!." He screamed which made me flinch.

‎"Carter I..."

‎"Emily Everyone is dead because of you " I began to cry. As he began to shake with his eyes rolling back into his head.

‎"No I didn't...."

‎Then I was sent flying to a wall. I screamed as my head collided with the strong wall behind me. My whole body felt like I just got run over by a car. Then I saw him.

‎I couldn't believe my eyes. My Husband was standing right in front of me covered in blood and what seemed like bits of flesh. He was missing some chunks of flesh and God did he smell awful.

‎"John?" I said "it's me Emily..." Before I could say anything he let out a shrilling sound that rang in my ear the wrong way.  Everyone including Carter began to grunt and move towards me.

‎The where all dead but how... Unless... Zombies.

‎He walked towards me and with a shrilling scream, he bit me on my neck pulling out a hudge chunk of meat. I couldn't feel the pain at all but then my vision began to turn red then all I could see was red.

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  • Project Dakota: Rising of the dead   Epilogue

    The dust motes were her only companions, the tiny, dancing sprites of forgotten air. They swirled in the single, slender finger of sunlight that pierced the gloom of her room, a room that was not a room at all but a tomb of rough-hewn stone and despair. It was cold, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and made a home there, a permanent chill that no amount of huddling or shivering could ever dislodge. The walls pressed in, not with a visible motion, but with a heavy, constant weight, making her feel impossibly small, a forgotten trinket on a dusty shelf. In this oppressive silence, the only thing that felt real, that felt like hers, was that crack in the wall.It was more a flaw in the ancient masonry than a window, a long, jagged line that ran diagonally across the stone, wide enough in one place to press her eye against, wide enough to let in that precious, life-giving beam of light. Now, standing on her toes, her bare feet cold against the gritty floor, she leaned into the

  • Project Dakota: Rising of the dead   Chapter Sixty-three

    The night after the exile was not a time of rest, but a protracted, collective daze. The shelter, usually settling into a wary quiet after sundown, was instead a hive of subdued, sorrowful activity. Jake’s funeral was to be held at first light, a decision made both for the practical advantage of cooler temperatures and because no one could bear to let another full day pass without laying their friend to rest. The knowledge of it hung over everyone, a somber deadline that made sleep impossible.Ethel moved through the hours in a state of emotional suspension. Her body performed the necessary tasks—checking on the dwindling food stores with Ben, speaking in low tones with Moe and Carlos about rotating watch schedules, ensuring the perimeter was doubly secure in the wake of Marcus’s banishment—but her mind was elsewhere. It was trapped in a loop of memory and anticipatory grief. She wasn’t ready for this. The finality of it, the physical act of lowering a box containing all that remained

  • Project Dakota: Rising of the dead   Chapter Sixty-two

    The grim finality of the vote settled over the shelter like a shroud of lead. The words, "The sentence is exile," echoed in the cavernous silence of the hall, a verdict that felt to many not like justice, but like a precarious, half-measure, a dangerous gamble with their collective future. A low, restless murmur rippled through the assembled crowd, a current of disbelief and simmering fury. Exile. It meant he would still be breathing. It meant he was out there, somewhere in the vast, unforgiving ruins, a predator set loose, his rage and psychosis now amplified by a death sentence narrowly avoided. The fear was palpable, a sour taste in the air. People were pissed, their faces etched with a fresh layer of terror. They had wanted closure, a final, brutal line drawn under the horror. Instead, they had been given a ghost, a perpetual boogeyman who now had a very real, very personal grudge against every single soul within their walls.Ethel stood amidst the discontent, her own disappointme

  • Project Dakota: Rising of the dead   Chapter Sixty-one

    The first conscious sensation for Ethel was not the pale, grimy light filtering through the dust-caked window of her small room, but a profound, cellular ache, as if every particle of her being had been pulverized into a fine, leaden powder during the night. She did not open her eyes immediately, clinging instead to the fragile blankness of the semi-waking state, a gray, featureless plain where the horror had not yet fully coalesced. But memory, cruel and inexorable, flooded the void. It did not come as a single image, but as a wave, a physical pressure on her chest that made breathing a conscious, laborious act.It was the memory of sound that broke her first: the raw, jagged sound of another human soul tearing itself apart. Elise’s breakdown. Ethel had told her. She had practiced the words in the silent theater of her mind, sanding down their sharp, lethal edges, trying to coat them in a veneer of manageable tragedy. Jake is gone. There was an accident. It was quick. Lies, all of th

  • Project Dakota: Rising of the dead   Chapter Sixty

    The wedding was amazing. It was a word Ethel would have scoffed at using just a day before, but it was the only one that fit. In the soft, golden glow of the salvaged fairy lights, with the stars beginning to prick the velvet blanket of the night sky above their fortified walls, the grim reality of their existence had been temporarily suspended. The ceremony itself had been simple, heartfelt, and profoundly moving. Patrick, the unassuming gardener, had spoken the ancient words with a dignity and conviction that belied his usual quiet demeanor. Sarah had wept happy tears. Ben’s hands had trembled as he slid a ring fashioned from a twisted piece of copper wire onto his bride’s finger. The entire shelter had watched, united in a rare, uncomplicated moment of joy.Now, the reception was in full, raucous swing. The makeshift dance floor—a cleared space in the center of the courtyard—was a whirl of moving bodies. Elise, of course, was at the heart of it, her guitar set aside now as she danc

  • Project Dakota: Rising of the dead   Chapter Fifty-nine

    The clean, post-shower feeling was a fragile bubble of normalcy, and Ethel knew it was about to be popped by the complex social mechanics of introducing a feral, unpredictable element into their carefully balanced ecosystem. She found Levi where she’d left him, looking slightly less like a startled animal but still radiating the tense energy of someone waiting for the other shoe to drop. His damp, green-streaked hair was a stark declaration of individuality in a world that often punished it.“Come on,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Time to meet the rest of the family.”He followed her with a reluctant shuffle, his eyes taking in every detail of the common room as if mapping escape routes. She led him towards the far corner, near the large, south-facing windows that flooded the space with afternoon light. This was where the softer side of Birkin Shelter often congregated. Elise was there, carefully polishing the frets of her acoustic guitar with a soft cloth. Lena,

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