Dead Rising 2 Clothes Novels & Stories

she finished bathing and fumbled through her closet but there's not even a proper cloth to wear. she went to the laundry she found two hundred dollars bills in Desmond Dsquared ripped jeans pocket. the jeans looks baggy on her and she had to tape her pointed nipples with a sellotape since she doesn't even have a brassiere again then she put on Desmond's mauve color t-shirt. her final look was more of a tomboy she kept pacing back and forth in the living room "what if this demon find out... she smile bitterly at the thought of what she's herself gotten into "what's worse he'll just kill me" she shrugged and started out

Icran slammed the door behind him and locked it. Rhae stared at the garments in her arms, distant from what her usual attire entails but similar to an assassin’s attire. She pulled off her previous clothes, now tattered from a long day. Rhae realised that she might have been here for days, unknowingly. She pulled off her previous undergarment and the pants she had on as well. She stood there as the cold breeze pounded her skin, standing only in her underwear, uncertain of whether to trust the clothes she was brought.

Her marshmallow scent smells rotten. “Disgusting. Just tell her to take her clothes off.” Ghost says. All our conversations about being respectful to our mate go out the window at that moment. “Bro, knock it off.” I chastise him. I look closer at her clothes. A red cropped sweatshirt with the Blood River logo on the sleeve. She cut the neck to help it fit looser. The exposed strap of her bra is black like the leggings and her red trainers match her shirt perfectly. Focus, Milo.

Some of them had clean shirts and trousers which he could use for himself. Darren rushed towards one of the guys who had only his head chopped off. His shirt has a bit of blood splattered on it but it wasn't too obvious. However, he was baffled when he realized that there was no way to put off the T-shirt without staining them with the blood that still flowed from his headless neck. He looked around again and soon he found another who had on a jacket. Darren quickly moved towards him and took off the jacket to put it on. Kyley looked at this with a small frown but looked away when something came to her mind. She looked around the place to find the bag of dress which Darren had bought for her

"How is it even possible?. Is it why she said she was dead?. Did she make me come here purposely to become the new Queen of the witches?" Darcia stepped back, far away…. It was not as if she was scared, but the fact that she saw the dead lady in her dream made it feel weird, like really weird to her. "Gosh!. What's wrong with me?!". She went ahead, back to the dead body to check it out. "Who did this?". Darcia was irritated by the way the corpse looked. It looks to her, the soul has been drained out from the body completely. What even made it more strange and weird to her, the clothes she saw on her bed were totally similar to the one that the dead lady was wearing.

She ground her bottom lip between her teeth and fidgeted with the buttons of Rhett’s jacket, wishing for a cigarette, and trying to puzzle out what the bodies would mean. “In my dreams,” she said slowly. “The bodies are dressed in old fashioned clothing. Not modern clothing. They are old corpses.” She felt the energy in the cab change as both men focused on her. “Describe the clothing,” Talen said, frowning. “I might be able to place the era.” Of course, she thought, she was sitting next to a walking-talking history book. “Umm. There was a woman in a long white shapeless gown, gathered at the neck with lace on the sleeves.”

REMI POV "Did you dress me up so I can look good when I die?" Kade stopped walking. Turned to look at me. "What?" "This dress. The hair. The whole thing." I gestured at myself. "Did you make me look nice so at least I'll be a pretty corpse?" He stared at me for a second. Then laughed. Actually laughed. "Relax. The creatures don't want you dead. From what we know they specifically want you alive."

“Please, give me a little time. I will need to hang these clothes.” He groaned a little. The sound of that almost aroused me again. The clothes were all beautiful. They consisted of some loose T-shirts, colorful crop tops, short gowns of different colors, joggers, jeans, sweaters, and cozy long-sleeved tops. We headed to where he was leading me as we walked past the hallways. We took the elevator down to the second floor. I was surprised when I heard loud disco music thumping from the club. I thought it was almost midnight, and our basement was very quiet all along.

My poor stockings were ripped, my sturdy shoes were squishing with rainwater, and my beautiful hair was so wet and tangled that I just wanted to pull it out. Sad and frustrated, I yanked off all my clothes and laid them out on my ebony bedframe to dry. I pulled off my shoes and sat them in an empty corner near my polished bookcase. The only things left were my undergarments—a solid, white brassiere with lace-edged bloomers. I quickly got out of them and grabbed a satin robe, one I hadn't worn since Mother died. It was colored a rich purple, and it actually used to belong to her. Sometimes, it felt like I could smell her scent, as if she was still alive and here with me.

Atlas chuckles, going to pull the dress over my head, stopping when I shake my head violently, bile rising at the scent of Brady and my blood on the vile piece of clothing. Atlas looks at the dress in his hands, sniffs it once, and neatly tosses it into the bin next to the bed. He reaches down and pulls a suitcase from under the bed. He unzips it, and pulls out two of his giant t-shirts, as well as underwear, socks and a pair of pants.