Safe Haven - Intro

[...posted by Ted H]

Aight, gonna post this then prolly drop off the face of the earth for a bit. Super Bowl tomorrow and my Packers are playing. Im either gonna be too euphoric for the next week to do any writing, or Im gonna shoot myself in the head out of misery.

Anyway, this time around Ive got the intro to one of my bigger current projects. Its 90% conversation which I enjoy cuz I get to be lazy while still establishing everything needed. I'm gonna keep commenting about it, the actual story is after.

I'm only posting the intro cuz it sets a certain mood and right after it introduces the 3rd character, the mood and conversation quickly shifts gears. So for now Imma cuttin the scene before that character gets introduced. Seriously, heres how it all would work:

-Intro-strait faced, serious mood.
-Still intro-bring up the zombies, maintain strait faced seriousness of it all
-3rd character introduced-strait faced becomes smirk, seriousness becomes "lol zombie apocalypse"

Not that thats a bad thing, but Id rather keep the conflicting tones distinct from one another before I merge them in future updates. Zombie [drama] stories are of the handle with care variety.
...and now for your feature presentation.

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[Safe Haven - Intro pt.1]

“We’re all ready to die.”

“Pardon?”

“Everyone here could…should die today if they had to.”

“That’s a bit morbid.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Doesn’t change anything. I’m certainly not ready.”

“That depends. Do you grieve anymore?”

“I can’t grieve forever.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It doesn’t?”

“I wasn’t talking about Pete.”

“Who then?”

“Who? How bout the world. Billions upon billions of people. Do you grieve for them?”

“I could.”

“Could?”

“I’m all out of tears.”

“Is that why you stopped grieving for Pete?”

“Not just him. I cried for a lot of people. Everyone I knew, gone. You’re the last friend I have, Father.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“…Patrick.”

“I’m sorry, its just…you know I only pretend to do this to help people…because all the real ones are dead.”

“We all know you pretend, Pat, but it doesn’t mean we still can’t accept you like the real thing.”

“Still though, we’re all ready to just die.”

“Because we don’t grieve?”

“Because we’re no longer affected by it. We’re used to the massive deaths on a daily basis. We’ve lost what made us human. We’re no better than those outside our walls.”

“The zombies?”

“If you have to acknowledge them, yes, the zombies. They’re us except they don’t have humility. Now we’re no better.”

“We have to name them something.”

“For what reason?”

“Psychological. People are less scared when their fear has an identity, a name.”

“You have a point, but these things already had names. They were regular people once. People we all knew and loved, now reduced to targets.”

“I should go.”

“To the graveyard?”

“…”

Cayra refused to answer and instead walked down from the alter where she and Patrick had been standing. “It’s getting late,” she said as she continued up the aisle and out the front doors, leaving Patrick alone. He looked out into the sky through a collapsed part of the roof to regard the setting sun. The church itself was in a sad condition and would rightfully be condemned and abandoned, yet every Sunday, Patrick puts on a mass to a full house of people. Some attend mass out of hope for the future, while the rest only attend out of routine because outside of the routines, there is nothing else to do in Safe Haven other than wait for the inevitable.