Well, Ricke had it all set up. A nice house in the middle of the city, with spear-pits around it. The house was surrounded by craters. A few bear traps and other vicious thingies covering the approach across the craters. He was a well educated man, he had spent hours upon hours reading, increasing in skills. His weapon of choice was the wooden javelin, a tool he used with deadly precious as he could easily down a zombie with a well placed javelin to the head. He had just started taping into the shrouded world of mutagens, and had acquired a unmatched night vision and a body that regenerated constantly, without the need to sleep.
He was well on his way into Fall, when one day, as he opened the door to do his nightly raid as always, he was met by a wast group of various mutated insects, frogs and snails. He fought hard for a few hours, dodging attacks and killing foes left and right, covering his the various rooms of the house in pierced corpses of his enemy. It was soon obvious that he would not live to tell the tale. Where one toad died, two more crept out of from the craters, pouring trough the previously boarded up windows, melted by the snails acidic spit.
Ricke died on top of his bed, puncture wounds all over his body, poison rushing trough his veins, surrounded by the menacing hoard of mutated monsters. His bones now rests upon the now-dusty bed, his former base now the home of countless monsters, a place that other survivors avoids like the plague. Maybe his grim fate will one day be revealed, but until that day, he will rest where he lived. In the lone house in the middle of the field of craters.
So… That’s what just happened in MY Randomly-Generated Apocalypse. X)
