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Prologue
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2022-08-24 14:14:36My 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. 
Latest chapter
Project Dakota: Rising of the dead chapter Fifty-seven
The world inside the stockroom was a pocket of compressed, violent silence, broken only by Ethel’s ragged breaths and the soft, settling dust motes dancing in the slivers of light from the high windows. The five bodies lay in the awkward, graceless poses of the permanently still, their green aprons now stained with the dark, viscous evidence of their second death. The air was thick with the cloying stench of decay, fertilizer, and the sharp, metallic tang of blood. Ethel stood amidst the carnage, her chest heaving, the weight of the heavy hunting knife a familiar, grim comfort in her hand. The adrenaline was a live wire under her skin, making her senses hyper-acute. She could hear the faint, distant sounds of Jake’s distraction—a rhythmic, metallic clanging that was already beginning to fade, pulling the main horde further from the building.There was no time to process. The mission was the only thing that mattered. Her eyes, adjusted to the gloom, scanned the towering shelves and sta
Project Dakota: Rising of the dead chapter Fifty-six
The first thing Ethel became aware of was not the pale, greyish light filtering through the cracks in the boards, nor the familiar, low-grade chorus of groans from the street below. It was a profound, systemic disquiet, a deep-seated thrumming of anxiety that seemed to originate in her very bone marrow. It was the psychic hangover from the previous night’s potent cocktail of cannabis, confession, and near-catastrophic rescue. Her mouth felt stuffed with desiccated cotton, and her eyelids were gritty, leaden weights. Consciousness was not a gentle dawn but a cold, unwelcome flood, and she resisted it, trying to sink back into the blank, merciful oblivion of sleep.This resistance was violently, and quite literally, shattered.A hand clamped onto her shoulder and shook her, not with gentle concern, but with a frantic, jarring intensity. “Ethel! Ethel, wake up! Now!”It was Jake’s voice, but stripped of its usual low rumble, sharpened by an edge of pure panic. The shaking continued, rele
Project Dakota: Rising of the dead Chapter Fifty- five
The slam of the window was a full stop, a definitive end to the chaos outside. For a moment, the only sound in the small, dark room was the ragged symphony of their breathing—three different tempos, three different volumes, all underscored by the faint, persistent moaning from the street, now muffled into a distant, ambient threat. The adrenaline that had fueled the rescue was receding, leaving in its wake a hollow, jangling exhaustion and the lingering, fizzy residue of the cannabis high.The boy was the first to move. He slid down the wall beside the window until he was sitting on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest. He dropped his head, and his entire body shuddered with a series of deep, wracking tremors that were more than just shivers. It was the physical manifestation of terror finally being released now that the immediate danger had passed. The tough, profane exterior had cracked, revealing the terrified child beneath.Jake stood over him, a dark silhouette against the
Project Dakota: Rising of the dead chapter Fifty-five
The scene unfolding in the moon-washed street below was not just a crisis; it was a surreal, brutal parody of one. The initial shock of the gunfire had pierced their cannabis-induced haze, but it had not fully dispelled it. Instead, the drug now acted as a filter, distorting the urgency of the moment, stretching seconds into long, ponderous thoughts, and making the boy’s desperate struggle seem like a piece of grim, avant-garde theatre.He was a scrawny thing, all sharp angles and jutting elbows, swimming in a dark grey hoodie that swallowed his frame. His movements were a frantic, uncoordinated dance of terror—backpedaling, stumbling, righting himself, all while fumbling with the bolt-action .22 rifle that seemed too large, too serious a weapon for his small hands. The pop-pop of the gun was a flat, unserious sound against the deep, guttural moans of the five figures shambling towards him. They were a mixed group: a former businessman in the tattered remains of a suit, a woman in a f
Project Dakota: Rising of the dead chapter Fifty-three
Of course. Here is the chapter, written to your exact specifications, with no added scenes and a focus on detailed, interesting conversations and descriptions, exceeding 6,000 words.---The world had shrunk to the dimensions of a single, dusty room, and within that new, smaller universe, the only laws that mattered were the gentle, spiraling rituals of the high. Ethel sat cross-legged on a threadbare rug that had once been a vibrant Persian blue, now faded to the colour of a tired sky. The intricate patterns were worn smooth in patches, a ghostly map of footsteps and furniture long since vanished. Jake was opposite her, his back against a heavy oak dresser, his long legs stretched out before him, the scuffed toes of his boots pointing towards the boarded-up window.Between them, on a low, scarred wooden crate that served as a table, lay the sacred implements of their temporary escape: a small, dark green bud of cannabis, a packet of rolling papers thinner than a moth’s wing, and a ch
Project Dakota: Rising of the dead chapter Fifty-two
The silence in the truck cab was a thick, tangible thing, layered with the lingering scent of smoke, cordite, and the coppery tang of blood. It was a silence of shared trauma, of adrenaline receding, leaving behind a hollow, shaky exhaustion. The green-black landscape of the dead suburbs blurred past my window, a monotonous tapestry of ruin that was both horrifying and, in its own way, comforting in its familiarity. At least out here, the threats were usually visible.My forearms rested on my knees, my hands dangling between them, palms up. They were trembling, a fine, constant vibration I couldn’t seem to stop. Dried blood, dark and flaking, coated my right hand and sleeve, a grisly souvenir from the point-blank shot in the cafeteria. My jacket was spattered with darker, viscous matter that I didn't allow myself to look at too closely. The memory of its warmth as it had sprayed across my face was enough to make my stomach clench.Jake drove with a focused intensity, his eyes constant
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