Welcome to Gaia! ::

[Fank' yoo Kagome :3
Just assume that an hour or so has passed before Mizuki finally catches up to the group]


Mizuki groaned slightly. Half asleep, he rolled over, onto his back.
Something lodged in his throat and he choked on it. His eyes shot wide open as his body erupted into spasms of shaking coughs. Instinctively he brought a hand up to his face to cover his mouth - old habits died hard - and something semi solid and wet slapped into contact with his palm. The obstruction clear, he lay flat on his back. Every inch of him felt drained and weak.

In the corner of his semi awareness, he could hear shuffles and grunts. Something knocked half heartedly against his shoulder. Mizuki's upper lip twitched and pulled back into an absent half snarl and his eyes rolled back into his sockets.
Ugh.
A sicken pulse had kicked up behind his temples. His muscles and joints ached and he had a strong and painful ringing in his ears. His mouth tasted terrible, his throat sore and slicked. When his eyes did roll back open again, the little light that had been shed on him before was blocked. By a face. As Mizuki stared up he was confronted with an empty eye socket, scratched cheeks and scraggled greasy hair. He was dimmly aware of the sick smell of rot, blood and human excrement. His stomach lurched and he felt something climb the back of his throat and rolled onto his side and shuddered as he heaved. This time, however, his stomach prooved too weak. Instead the thick sludge that had been working its way up his throat slithered back down to rest in an uneasy stomach. He was all too aware that the creature that had been lurking above him had been a Crazie. Disorientated, alone and weak - Mizuki could do little but shiver in childish fright.
A mere shadow of his former corageous self, Mizuki was on the brink of tears. He was confused and lost. The last thing he could remember was being stood at the corner, fighting to keep control. Now he was cold, wet and utterly alone. Two Crazie's were circling him now and he was far too weak to defend himself - caught in the lathargic binds of having reached his equilibrium. He felt a face come close to his ear and tried to whimper, but all that left him was a hoarse noise. There was the sensation of breeze in his ear as the thing sniffed at him. It grunted and pulled back.
Mizuki expected at any moment to be set upon. Mauled to death by human jaws whilst he lay there too weak and too afraid to fight back. But to his shock, delight and even greater confusion - the Crazie pulled back, and two sets of footsteps grew fainter and fainter still. . .

Mizuki lay where he was for a good while. Slowly picking himself up from the inside out. He kept his eyes closed, finding his location too confusing and too distressing to look at - distracting him from the slow healing process. The moment he felt capable of moving, he opened his eyes slowly. He was laid on his side on some tiles. Looking around at the shelves stacked with box upon labelled box he could only assume that he was in some form of store room. Rolling onto his back again he gasped at the sheer height of the roof. A big store room.
Staring upwards what felt like miles to the steel rafters of the roof made him come over dizzy once more. He brought a hand up to rub his forehead - then stopped. His pupils shot back in horror, his jaw hanging slack. His glove was torn. The material shredded viciously and roughly so his fingers could break through. The fingers beneath were stained with the rust of dried blood that was caked thickly under his nails. The thing he had coughed up still glistened grotesquely on his palm. A small glob of pulp. Bloody, flesh coloured pulp. His face mask bumped idolly against his forearm from where it was tied loosely around his wrist. Mizuki sat bolt upright in horror. Both his hands were the same. Both gloves torn at roughly to expose his fingers. Bloody, dirtied digits. Looking down at himself he could see why he had felt wet - his black top sticking to his flesh with thick layers of coagulating blood. Mizuki prodded around his torso and stomach in desperation - and to his horror found now tenderness. No wounds.
This blood wasn't his. . .
He began to mumble incoherently, his eyes wide with terror, his teeth chattering. He made to get up but something very close to him grated upon the tiles. The sudden noise and it's alarming proximity caused Mizuki to scream. It was a short, high pitched squeal that cut off immediately as his sore, abused throat closed itself off. His heart hammering a mile a minute, his legs shaking badly, he realised that the noise had been his gun. Somehow it had managed to stay with him all the way through whatever hell he had just lived through. It too was caked in a thick crusty mess of blood and minced flesh. Out of sheer frustration he went to run his fingers through his hair. This was thick and matted - crusted with a substance that Mizuki didn't have to ask the origin of. He began to shake all over, going numb with shock as he realised he was bathed from head to toe in blood.

It took a lot of effort for Mizuki to finally get a hold of himself and crawl to his feet. As he did he tried to ignore the large bloody smear he had left upon the tile. His first few steps were shakey - like that of a new born lamb. He wobbled and clutched to the shelves for support - leaving great red smears across their edges. He took deep gasps of air into his lungs, clearing his head and each time trying to ignore the taste of blood that came with it. He had spat on the floor in hopes of removing the taste - but the sight of that pink and frothy blob with scraps of meat in it had caused him to throw up the majority of it. The vomit had been no prettier, producing pieces of what was quite clearly brain and various other tit bits of the human body that Mizuki felt no desire to investigate.
He had soldiered on, heading back to what he thought had been the far end of the store room - but the sight that had met him had caused his blood to chill and his heart to slow.
A lorry had driven through the back door of the store room that backed off onto the delivery eneterence. In other words, it had taken not only the door, but a few feet of surrounding wall out and left it completely exposed to the street. Backing up quickly, almost tripping himself over in the process, Mizuki began to run in the opposite direction.
The running took a lot out of him from the start, and it didn't take long for the acids in him to start making his joints sear.
The shelves cut everything off and made the pathways almost maze like. The more he ran, the more desperate he became. His objective now was to get out of the store room - seal it if possible. In some ways, Mizuki was thankful for the sudden emergency. As life threatening as it was - it took his mind off of more troubling matters. Like where his friends were. And whose brain had been making its way through his digestive system.
He had been making good general progress before he ran into his first Crazie. It had been more startled by his presence that he was of it - screeching and jumping backwards. Though it had been set to turn on heel, Mizuki showed it no pardon. He hefted his gun and popped a shot off at its head. The shot had not been a good one, his hands still shaking under the weight of the gun. The large round had hit it just above the cheekbone, taking out the eye and obliterating the half of brain above in in a mighty splatter of gore. Blood and strange strings of sinew had flown out of the barrel off of the gun as the round had been fired, the silencer turning the recall into the smallest of clicks. But the sounds of alarm and the scents of the Crazie had been enough to attract others in the immediate vacinity.
Mizuki had bumped into two others before finally finding a second exit. These had been openly hostile and gone for him. Mizuki had managed to kill the first with a rough headshot. But the other had closed in so close in that time that he hadn't had time to aim properly. He'd squeezed the trigger and the bullet had ploughed through the creature's chest. The thing had shuddered and ambled on a few steps backwards before making a second lunge at him. This time Mizuki had managed to shot it in the face at point blank range. This had been the first time Mizuki realised that he wasn't wearing his goggles. His eyes had shut instinctively, but the warm spray upon his exposed eyelids had been enough of a shock. Swearing, his voice breaking with alarm, he reached up to claw the worst of the splatter away with dirty fingers. From this point he had ran full point through the exit door. The double doors were slow release - and even pulling really hard, they had taken an eternity to close. But even when they clicked into place Mizuki didn't feel safe. He pressed his back against them, looking around desperately for something to block it with. His first impression was that he was in some sort of sports or outdoor department. So he was in Wallmart? Thinking about it, it made sense. After all, the storeroom he had just been in was large enough to facilitate the needs of a building this expansive. His thoughts for a moment turned to terror as he recalled Kalila and Nicholas going into Wallmart. . . his eyes flickered to the blood down his front and for a moment he felt on the verge of fainting.
NO! The others would've killed me had I tried anything against those two.
. . . Unless I got one on their own. . .
Mizuki shook his head more forcefully, feeling himself go cold with dread and once more focused around him. Spotting a display of golfclubs, he dashed forwards, seizing the whole bag. Heavier than he first anticipated, he almost dropped them as he hastily turned to run back to the door - but caught himself, half dragging half carrying the bag back to the door. Once here, he threaded every single one through the bars between the two doors forming a cheap and temporary bar. One on it's own would have been a joke, but he hoped fourteen squeezed through would provide something more stable. Had he been feeling stronger and not so tired he was sure he might have been able to bend a few of them into proper locks. But as things stood - he was sure he couldn't even bend a spoon let alone a ******** golf club or three!

Slightly reassured in the knowledge that he had done all he could to seal this exit as much as he could - he set about the next top priority. Cleaning himself up.

[Sorry guys. I was gunna have Mizuki returned. But the post would have been too ******** long. So I'll monologue once more and then have him come back in my next post :3 Sorry]