Krieg der Toten

(Note: Actual Quotes from already established characters may be used. This is solely a fan fiction of Treyarch's storyline)
(Spoiler Alert: Present Day - We all die. Read on to discover HOW we die.)
(Warning: Gore and Vulgarity will ensue.)

"Entry 741021! Perhaps the station will hold the key to the real goals of Group 935. I still do not trust my unconventional allies, but they are of great use to me. But, I digress. Who would have thought the MDT was capable of time travel? How many stations does this group have? Where did that little girl disappear to? Only time will tell what new questions awaits us in this… THEATER OF THE DAMNED!" - Dr. Edward Richtofen

CHPT.1 - Theater of the Damned (Richtofen)

Date: August 2nd, 1962
Location: Abandoned Nazi Theater House
Personnel: Tank, Nikolai, Takeo, Dr. Richtofen
Status: ALIVE


The foyer was in shambles - various holes in the ceiling, swastika banners torn to shreds barely hanging on the walls, rubble on the floor and the stench of rotting flesh hanging in the stale air. A lone machine sat in the center of the chamber, whirring silently as the mechanism slowed to a halt. A blonde US Marine standing next to it kicked the machine as it died.

"Well, shit…" spat the marine, "and here I thought we'd have some fucking R + R."

"Easy Mr. Dempsey," came a heavily German accented voice - "You vouldn't vant to attract ze unliving to us, ya?

The marine brushed his nose and reached for his holster, "HAH… Doc, if those maggot-sacks want a piece of us, they'll have to tear through Nikolai and me, first." He looked to Nikolai and scowled after not getting any recognition out of him, "hey… HEY! You're not still drinking on me, are ya?!"

Nikolai blinked and turned around, staggering to stuff a flask back into his coat - Richtofen chuckled, "Straight shooting from a drunk Russian. How quaint!"

The Russian seemed to pay no mind - he paused, burping, and looked around, "This doe'nt look like Soviet building…"

Richtofen blinked and took notice too - The Major General's calculations were off, indeed. This was the place the teleportation project would be unveiled to the Nazi's upon completion… Though there was a station on US Soil, thanks to his agents in America, the project wasn't ready to go underway… it required too much power and much more data. He was unsure how he and his three soldiers managed to safely teleport, as the preliminary tests came back with nothing but ashes where the soldiers once were… "No, ze's izn't ze cosmodrome… I know vere ve are, and ve should be leaving now! …Zere's far too many skeletons crawling about in zis place for me - Quick. Ve must find ze power switch and move along."

The fourth team member, the former captain of the Imperial Army, Takeo Masaki, rounded the corner near the double doors to the viewing hall. His face looked grim and pale, yet very much alive compared to the likes of the walking dead. The others saw him moving closer and questioned his fear. "Hey, Tak - what's eat'n ya?"

"The undead are massing at the doors outside… We don't have any more time, and these doors are locked, some even barricaded." Takeo lifted his cap and wiped his forehead, "We'll be overrun in minutes."

Nikolai frowned, looking down at his coat pocket, "No time for staying, no time for drinking… Fuck this place."

Tank Dempsey smiled, "At least there'll be shit to kill. Look around for some weapons and ammo - You commies love stockpiling that kinda shit, we aughta find something."

The others nodded and they began to search the place. Moans were audible from down the hallway Takeo came from, giving renewed resolve to find desirable equipment - but it seemed with every crate opened and rubble shifted, another voice would sound from away. It was a minute before Richtofen found something - a small stash of M1911s, hand grenades, an Olympia shotgun and M14.

"Ze's won't be like Der Riese, Gentlemen - Zes time, Ve vill be victorious!" The click of loaded weaponry echoed through the lobby as the zombies broke through and began their assault. Though time would tell if they truly succeeded, Richtofen already knew time was forfeit - Maxis's zombies were loose because of the very machine they used, meaning they could be anywhere and everywhere, at any time. As the first shots rang out, the good doctor hoped they were just confined to present day.


CHPT.2 - Nate's Demise (Present Day)

Date: October 24th, 2011
Location: University of Maine - Orono (TKE)
Personnel: Nate Hillman, Jennifer Hussey, John Murray, Andrew Rasmussen
Status: ALIVE


"What the crap!!" Nate swore, looking down from his hold on the side of the TKE building - Several college-goers were trying to claw their way out of the window at him, but he was just out of arm's reach. Stranded on either side, Nate's only option was down - a fall of two stories that looked further down than it really was - of course he would be landing on a crowd of hungry anticipating students, all now infected. Doing donuts in the TKE parking lot was a white pick-up truck, etched in the blood of a dozen roadkill victims. The driver was his only hope, if she were to take out the group by him - He would have to time his fall to land on the vehicle, preferably the bed of the truck.

Jen took out a few more of the horde with a well-placed sideswipe, spinning her tired on the gore - a two-way radio kept her in contact with John and the others as she attempted to spring Nate from captivity - nowhere on campus was safe… not anymore.

"There's too many, John - they're trying to get into the truck when I hit them - I slow down too much!" She hollered into the radio, glancing in one of her mirrors to eye Nate.

"Just get Nate and get out of there! Drive through and go!" The radio crackled and briefly cut out. Jen looked at Nate again after making sure she was keeping her speed up.

Nate's grip was slipping, and the zombies were becoming more daring, falling out the window to try to claw at him, hoping to dislodge his footing. One made contact with his shoe, but Nate stood firm - briefly.

"NOW WOULD BE GOOD!" Nate yelled at Jen, hoping she would come to his aid in time. He looked to his left and saw an infected leap at him - not fall! With the undead ready to knock him to the ground, he leaped out in front, hoping he'd land on the truck. The zombie missed by inches - Nate missed the bed of the truck by the same amount, as he bounced off the cap and off the truck itself. Landing on his feet, he looked up to see three of the bastards close by, quickly running at him in reaction to the fall. The zombies were driving him away from safety…

Jen's vehicle had to keep going - it was in no position to turn, so it drove, jumping over the ditch and onto College Ave - though it stopped once the rubber met the pavement once again, no undead remained around her truck for the moment, and she was able to start moving again without delay. She spotted Nate barreling down the road toward her, with an ever-growing mob behind him. She turned the turck around and kicked open the passenger-side door. Nate began yelling at her as he ran but his voice was too distant.

Seconds past as his voice became clearer, "CLOSE IT! CLOSE IT!!"

She quickly stomped on the gas, jerking the door closed - just as an arm reached from her blind spot to claw its way into the cab. The arm fell off the rotting body, and Nate launched himself into the bed of the truck as it continued to take off.

Jen's eyes were wide, and her heart pounding - skipping a few more beats as the back window to the cab slid open. She screamed and went to bat the thing - when she realized the thing was Nate: He caught a backhand to the nose, but nothing too serious.

"Don't do that!!" Jen swore.

"OW! Alright, alright~" Nate rubbed his nose, irritably.

"Now you know why we regrouped off campus?! That place is a breeding ground for those guys! At least we have somewhat of a defense at Wouldbe!" Jen growled at her friend as she continued speeding down the road. She looked down in the passenger-side floor and watched the rotted hand - it continued to wriggle but got nowhere… she didn't dare touch it, just in case it spread like that.

Long moments passed, naught but wriggling and the noise of the truck engine to be noticed. "Everyone else make it?" Nate piped up.

Jen shook her head, "there's so many we don't know about… Matt, Andrew, Cam, Ian, Mandi, Logan… With the state of things, Nichole told me we'd be better off holding down where ever we were - Not go chasing around for people who might be… you know."

Nate frowned, "I can see her point, but still… Coming from Nichole?"

Jen sighed, "She didn't exactly word it like that - She didn't want me driving around with so many zombies about. John thought similar, but… If there was any chance you were okay…"

Nate smiled and nodded firmly, "Thanks. I appreciate it…"

Jen returned the smile, "Anytime… I know you'd do the same for me!"

The truck didn't take much longer to roll into Wouldbe - Nate hopped out of the bed of the Truck as Jen opened her door - She smiled, seeing John and Nichole in the window of the house - Annie was there too, working on the front door, which had been barricaded and booby-trapped to ward off zombies who got too curious. She waved at them smiling, grateful to be home.

Nate, however, wasn't looking at the window - he was looking across the yard. He had a hunch this might happen: It was their most heavily fortified stand-off point, sure… but Wouldbe was still grounds for a plentiful numbers of zombies… though the graveyard was filled with the dead, only the living could be infected with the virus - still, it seemed fitting to look in that direction, where a few roaming workers from the mill were wandering closer. A pair of slow buggers… nothing. What made him panic was the runner - a zombie fast enough to win a marathon race… making a beeline for Jen.

"In the house! Now!!" Nate sprinted, shoving jen forward, who after a confused second proceeded to claw at the doorknob. The door wouldn't open in time - but the zombie never reached Jen. The zombie grunted and moaned as Nate ran head on, intercepting the undead bastard. the impact sent them both flying around the corner, where Nate picked up a good sized rock and started bashing the zombie's head in - it was the touch of rotting flesh on his shoulderblades that gave him his last thought - he forgot there was more than one zombie out there. Worried that Jen would come for him - and the amount of sheer pain - Nate roared in agony as the zombies bit into his shoulders and neck. From inside, Nichole screamed, while John was swearing his ass off - Annie managed to open the door finally, unaware of the situation outside around the corner - and Jen made her way in, screaming in tears of rage.

He was the first among them to fall. He certainly wouldn't be the last.


CHPT.3 - Suicide Troops (Dr. Richtofen)

Date: August 2nd, 1962
Location: Abandoned Nazi Theater House
Personnel: Tank, Nikolai, Takeo, Dr. Richtofen
Status: ALIVE


The main lobby had been overrun - the group began pressing their assault on eastward, toward the dressing rooms. Tank Dempsey and the Soviet, Nikolai - blasting way the undead hordes with the M14 and Olympia respectively, guarded the rear assault while Takeo covered the Doctor, who was busy unlocking the doors and sifting through the barricades ahead.

"Eat it, flesh-addict!" The Amercian was having a blast, so to speak - as a shot from his rifle tore the head off of a charging zombie.

"Doctor!" Nikolai roared, "I don' mean to pry - but is your progress with barricade at halt?" No response made the Soviet add on in anger, "You better not be drinking my Vodka if you're not working!"

"Calm down, Ze's is just a much more complicated lock zen ze last two…"

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