There was madness in Townston. Absolute. Madness. Zombie Lincoln waded into the fray of civilians and townies munching brains and making minions. Soon he will have an army.
Meanwhile, two friends were staying in their room, trying to avoid the apocalypse. One of them was coaxed into going to watch the other by a convincing and complex computer program that rearranged her computer programs to all point at his friend's impending doom. As the screaming, shooting and chaos raged in the convention hall, one of the friends looked out to watch as a troupe cosplaying as the cast to Black Lagoon was eating a troupe cosplaying as the cast to Outlaw Star, and decided it would be best to stay inside.
“Don't worry, I'll protect you!” one said, back to the door, as the other friend checked the windows. “So why don't we watch some TV while wait?”
“What have you got?” the other asked, taking the moment to look through the other's stuff. “Know what? Your show's suck.”
“What?” the first friend asked.
“That show did a complete 180 midway. And the premise got dumber and dumber with every episode.”
“We watched that same show together!!”
“Yeah, well now I hate it.”
Someone was prevented from acting!
In the mean time, Anthony Mercer was running around swinging a book at a pesky zombie that kept trying to eat him.
“I'm low in fiber! Go away!” he shouted, knocking the zombie to its knees and then running for it. As he turned, he collided into another person in a typically anime fashion and they collapsed on each other. As he came up, he found his hands tangled in some crimson clothing that had come free. “What the?”
“You sick bastard!” the other person shouted, and Anthony, hands up in a placating gesture fled, as he now ran the risk of being accosted by a half naked individual and a completely naked zombie.
Anthony Mercer has been shamed back into his room!
D_Dude had been sitting in his chair, drinking beer and watching television when there was a knock at the door. He woke up with a start, not even really realizing what he had been asleep. He yawned and went to the door.
“Can I help you?” he asked, opening the door and a figure dashed past him into the room.
“It's crazy out there! Can I stay here for a while?”
“Sure, sure.” he replied, closing the door. As the echo of the door slammed, the other person tensed. “Something wrong?”
“That's the sound…” they began. “The sound the beast makes!!”
“What? What beast sounds like a-” The visitor lunged, tackling D_Dude and drawing a very large and very sharp knife.
“He demands… a sacrifice!”
“Wait… wouldn't you rather share this bounty of pizza rolls?” The answer was an emphatic “no” delivered via a quick, vicious slash of the blade.
D_Dude the Unassuming Attendee is dead!
As another person tried to put a dastardly plan they saw someone else into motion, but alas, the persons involved were busy elsewhere.
Meanwhile, someone else was fleeing from a pack of zombies, equally distressed by the number of zombies behind him and the fact that he was running into a strangely decorated hallway that was mostly black and white.
He made it into an exhibit and locked the door behind, as the zombies slammed into the door, howling and snarling, and knelt down, breathing heavily, coughing and wheezing.
“Rule number one man,” someone said from beside, and he looked up into the person's eyes. “Cardio.” Then slashed his victim across the face with his sword, the victim swung his arms wildly, but served to do nothing but hit the air. As his temporarily blinded victim struggled, the attacker smiled self confidently, before heading to find another exit. The victim however, wiped the blood from his eyes and looked around only to find he was alone.
Night Three has ended!
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