Desolate Earth ( Hellscream x FaithWynters)

[Atherium]

Earth. Who would have known that, right in the moment of its peak, the human civilization would have to meet its end? Probably no one. In the year of 2030, the things were going from great to excellent. Technology progressed greatly, giving people opportunities to live in a world where poverty almost became extinct, and wars were coming to an end. Everyone saw a bright future for their children, and for the line of their heritage. With the help of technology, they have managed to clean the air and bring the pollution level under control. Vehicles no longer used fuel that would cause harm to the ozone. A harmony between nature and the big cities would be established by creation of special domes that would isolate the cities away from the lush, green grass and the ever growing trees. The world was slowly becoming an utopia of sorts, and finally everyone could breathe in relief.


But would peace last for long? Some dreamt it would be so, but others seemed to be striving to disrupt the perfect environment. Without anyone's knowledge, a laboratory hidden within the Ural Mountains was working for years now on an experiment with pure military purpose. Scientists would spend day and night playing with genes of the human DNA strains and animal DNA strains alike, twisting and altering them to their own liking. The target was simple: The creation of a new weapon of war that would help, in the last instance, to end the conflicts by total eradication. A perfect machinery in front of which no army would have the chance of survival. Raised in special cells, the beings were, at the beginning, shapeless. The tests they were being put through would give them the perfect opportunity to choose a shape, size and ultimately, a predatorial way.


Certainly, these beings were capable of wreaking havoc and exterminate enemies of any type. A perfect machinery for destruction. What hasn't been considered, however, was the possibility of these mutant beings to escape the containment capsules and spread out into the world.


13 March, 2030.


Two soldiers were standing, each on one side of the door that led into the big hall where the containment capsules were kept. The two wore the best armors, made out of a newly discovered material that would resist to many sorts of projectiles. Special helmets with only a shady window over the eyes would protect their heads. The weapons they held close to their chests, armed and ready to shoot, were similar to the typical machine guns, but also, much more powerful and dangerous. The two kept silent and seemed to be made out of stone as they guarded the objective. Nothing and no one was allowed to pass through the door. Inside, the creatures were laying dormant in their capsules. Or so everyone thought. A sound coming from the other side of the door would attract the attention of the two stoic guards. Turning their heads to each other, they listened for a second, before nodding in agreement. They had to check.


As they turned around, one of them prepared the special key for validation, to open the door. But it wasn't a moment before the door was blasted open, throwing both men back into the wall on the other side of the corridor. The alarm was quick to be set off by the person who was given the duty of watching the security cameras. The heavily armed troops that arrived within seconds at the place only saw what looked like gallons of blood spilled on the walls and on the floor, before shadowy forms leaped towards them. The gunshots persisted for moments as the panicked soldiers would try escaping this odd enemy, that was faster and way more dangerous than they could fathom. The whole facility has been taken over in no time, and the genetic mutations were now set free, leaping out into the world. So it began.


The whole situation picked up quickly. Everytime the humans tried repelling the invaders, the latter would evolve and grow stronger, finding different ways of outdoing the human weapons. Heavy armor, wings, anything inbetween. The creatures multiplied by unknown means and divided into species, wiping the whole human race off the face of the Earth and then having heavy feuds each with another. By the end of 2034, what once were cities now were sad ruins and wrecks that remembered that once, there, existed the human civilization.


2035. The very few remaining humans were either hiding constantly, waiting to one day get devoured by one of the creatures they tried escaping from, or seeking out other humans and eventually wipe them away and jack their supplies. Survival of the fittest. Kill or be killed. A world where there was no place for grace, joy or hope. In this world, he dwelled, doing his best to stay alive and see another sunrise, by all means.


His old, dirt stained combat boots made crunching sounds as he stepped on pebbled and pieces of debris. Which town has this one been? He casted a glance into the distance, running his gaze over the sad field. Blocks reduced to piles of debris, vegetation growing wild through the numerous cracks in the asphalt, along with big craters resulted from the numerous waves of bombardments from above, as a final solution to the whole problem. Cars turned into twisted masses of metal, eaten by rust and stained with old blood. Such a sad sight to behold. But he has seen it all, one too many times.


He could not feel the sadness any longer. All he could see in this was maybe an opportunity of finding something, anything. I should get to scavenging, he thought as he continued moving. In his hands, he held what was an old but still functional AK-47. Good thing for abandoned military bases, he learned those were the most abundant in supplies, especially weaponry. Maybe someday, he'd find one of those fancy things with better shots. For the moment being, the AK and a small 9 millimeter should do the trick. Even if the mutant beings were, apparently, invincible, they had each a soft spot. In time, some of them evolved and covered it with new generations, but, given one knew the certain spot, he could easily eliminate one, or more of the creatures.


So he learned in his time spent in Hell. He understood that keeping his blood cold and his temper in one spot will prove to be essential in survival. You lose your shit and you're fucked, he always repeated it within his mind while expecting to be attacked. Same worked for the very moment. For clothing, he had a black tank top, worn out as hell, with ripped spots here and there, that covered his well built, muscular torso. Before hell struck, he used to frequent gym, and the military service would make it quite legitimate for him to have a well built structure. His hair was now grown out wild, hanging on his back, left for the soft, hot wind to blow.


He wore an old pair of camo pants with lots of pockets, filled with who knows what little things that he found of use. His eyes were guarded from the rays of the sun by an old pair of shades, scratched and almost broken. It was all part of him. The man, careful, moved his way towards what looked like an abandoned corner store. It was, oddly enough, still standing. No bomb dropped on it. It could shelter a human or even worse, one or two hungry mutant beings. With utmost precaution, he rose the AK and aimed towards the entrance, stepping closer and closer as he observed. The once wooden door was brutally turned to splinters, and old blood was splattered on the frame. He could only imagine what has been going down back then.


With all his senses perked, he took his first step in, and cringed at the very first sound of the squeaking floor. Fuck, I think this echoed through the whole town, he grumbled in his mind as he took a look around. It looked like there was a genuine solitude to the place. No human, no creature, nothing. Only broken shelves and ruined, old merch scattered on the floor. With the same care as always, he took yet a few more steps in, and, kneeling by the mess on the floor, he started searching through, in hopes that he might find anything that he could put in the backpack he carried with him. It's been a while since he's had a full meal, only as much as not to be too hungry. He had to find something.

 

[FaithWynters]

Vibrant green trees spread out in expansion across the scene. Vines grew up through cracked sidewalks and park benches. Pale water in the light of the day created a still mirror of the sky. A bird, somewhere off in the distance called out to a mate that it would probably never find. Its sad song pierced the silence, but it could not be seen. A single leaf fell to the ground, breaking the stillness of the scene. Nature had reclaimed its place in this world at last. What used to be a tame outcropping of nature inside the vastness of a grand city was no a flourishing sign of equalization within this single little ecosystem.


Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit. Once again, something broke the stillness of the beautiful park. A figure short in stature shot across the scene—dashing through the trees and through vines that hung from their branches. Dark hair flew behind them as they ran at an incredible speed. From this distance, the distinct camouflage blended with the trees. As it cut off towards the area, the black V-neck outlined the curves of the figure perfectly against the green. It was a woman. What this woman was running from was unclear, but she flew through the trees.


Keep going. Don’t stop. Shit. Don’t stop. Green flashed in her vision, slapping her in the face as she ran through vines and bushes. The branches of the bushes she ran past slapped at her arms and stung like a switch on bare skin. She ignored the pain, jumping over large roots and making it far away from the dark places she had been before.


The warm air burned her lungs as she made it out of the trees and into the clearing. What used to be a sidewalk circled the glass pond that stared mimickingly up at the sky. She came to a stop, only for a few moments, looking from left to right. She didn’t know which way would be the best way to go. Either way she went, she saw herself coming into contact with something that would kill her in the end. There was no escaping this fate. Her chest rose and fell violently. She had been running from them for some time now. She looked back toward the wooded area. Shouting could be heard in the distance. Her heart almost stopped.


No. Keep moving. She turned, and ran. She didn’t know where she was going. She just knew that she had to get away from them. They would kill her if they caught up with her, and it seemed that her capture was much more important to them than their safety.


She continued for a long while, following the concrete toward the buildings that shot up over the trees. Her eyes wandered across the sky and no longer paid any attention to the vines beneath her feet. A small foot caught one, and sent her heavily to the ground. There was darkness.




“Put your hands up!” The voice was calm as the figure rounded the side of a nearby building. Damn. There was no chance to run the other way. There was no way of hiding from the double barrel that she was faced with. Harsh breath cleared her mind. She had to think logically about this. Simple words. Peace. Maintain peace until you could run.


“Please help me.” Her voice shook with tremors as she held her hands up and out toward the man. He was young—probably about her age—and seemed to stop for a moment at her pleas. She had nothing. Not a bag nor a weapon to defend herself with. “M-My family were just shot and killed by looters.” His grip tightened on the weapon. Tears flowed down her cheeks easily. “P-Please help me. I have nothing.” She felt to her knees and leaned forward as if she were going to begin crawling towards him.


“Stop.” The voice made her movement forward cease. She sobbed as her head faced the ground. It wa a great risk to put herself in this position. With her head down, she couldn’t see him. Her hands on the ground, she couldn’t defend herself. She was taking a risk, but she didn’t care. You had to take a risk for a con to work. “Look now. Get up.” She picked herself slowly up from the pavement that scratched at her skin. Her chocolate brown hair fell into her face. The man walked forward slowly, and pushed his gun beneath her chin. She swallowed hard and whimpered at the feeling of cold metal on her skin.


“You run. I kill you.” The voice was deep and vibrated in her ear as he leaned forward. His lips grazed her ear and he gripped her hands, yanking her along after him.


He lived with a group. He had food. He had weapons. He had a sick desire to enjoy the soft touch of a woman—a woman that was very uninterested in him. It was a simple combination of flaws that led them down this road. He had made the mistake she knew he would, and she killed him—half-naked in his bed; he had been waiting for her.


That’s why she was running with a full pack of food, and the double barrel she had been threatened with before. His partners did not take so kindly to his murder—that was their supplies too.




The darkness faded. Her head throbbed at the feeling. The sound of shouting was closer now. They were calling for her. Shit. Get up. Run. Throwing herself up, she started to run. She was only a few feet away from the park. The taste of blood spread throughout her mouth. A warm line from her eyebrow drew a red mark across her pale skin. Hair stuck to the stickiness and no matter how much she tried to push it away, it came back.


The distinctive sound of gunfire broke through the air. They were too close. They had seen her. Her head spun as she made it onto the paved road she had been making her way toward. She could get away again. She could run. Run. Don’t stop. Just run. Ignore the pain.


There were too many of them to fight on her own. Her only hope was to either get away or find someone to help her. No one would help her. Unless you wanted something, you didn’t keep someone around for long. There was no hope for her, but she ran anyway. She wouldn’t let them catch her.


She had three routes she could take from the place she was coming up to. No. Two. Two ways to run. Too many options for a dead end in this place. Instead of continuing straight, she cut down the side alleyway that drove between two apartment buildings. That would get her out of sight. She cut down another, and then another as the turns came. Now, she slowed to a stop. She panted like a dog on a hot summer day.


It looked to her that she had made the right choice. She had chosen the alleyway that led out onto another street, but what excited her the most was the building that created the alley. It was a gas station. The alley widened to a small fenced in area along the back. It was an old wood fence; she wasn’t sure how it was even still standing, but it had stood the test of time. Through the spaces in the wood she could see the forest green dumpster it housed. Great. A place to hide.


She took no more time to catch her breath. The shouting had stopped. There was no way to know where they were. The gunshots could still be heard. They were getting closer, but she was sure they were firing to try and scare her out. She ran hard and jumped. The wood knocked the wind out of her as she hit it, a loud crack echoed off the walls. No. Keep going. She scrambled up the side of the wood and landed hard on the other side. They wouldn’t check the dumpster. She told herself that no matter what was in that dumpster she would be in it. Up on her feet, and to the dumpster. There was a door that led into the station, but she didn’t bother checking it for anything—she didn’t have time. Gripping the plastic lid, she flicked it open. She didn’t look inside, and as she hit the metal bottom, it echoed up the walls again. Darkness met her vision, and this time, it was of her own accord.

 

[Atherium]

Old bread? Nah, too old. Mh, this doesn't look too good either. Cigarettes... this might come in quite handy. No actual food? Urgh... He thought as he searched through the contents spilled on the floor, picking them up and discarding them either back on the floor, or in the now open leather backpack. Unfortunately for him, no meat could last that long in those conditions. Only a few packs of biscuits and some snacks. Those were good, as well, considering the short supplies. In those conditions, nothing should go to waste. He was, however, a little disheartened that he came across nothing too good. Finally having finished scavenging, the male remained steady in position, and listened carefully.


He did that every time when he would have to take his attention towards something else, thus leaving himself open to a surprise attack. He learned, however, to listen to the ground, to the wind and to pretty much every element that surrounded him, in order to learn of any incoming attack that could possibly take him by surprise. Nothing. No tremors in the ground beneath his feet and no sounds brought by the wind. Safe to assume, nothing was around. But it wouldn't be too long until, out of a sudden, he heard gunshots. Clear as daylight, they would echo through and travel towards him by way of the air. He easily recognized the models of weapons used. Some of them were of the last generation. No doubt, there were more of those who shot, and now it was proof, as he heard multiple voices. Men. They seemed pissed off, to say the least.


Rebels... He knew all too well what all was about. Rebels were small group of soldiers who, at the time when they were needed, they simply deserted and ran off, starting to live off other people's backs. After the invasion was complete, the rebels would be the ones to have gotten away with most of the goods. Weapons, vehicles, food and all that was needed for a decent living. After, they would just travel from place to place and seek out the last remnants of the human fugitives and eliminate them, jacking their supplies and taking the women to enjoy themselves until the poor tortured would die in their hands. Scum of the Earth. The man was not a stranger from these bastards, he knew their ways and now he found an opportunity. If they were here, they surely had supplies. It was time that he would get into action.


Closing the backpack and locking it, he strapped it to his back before, with the same prudence as before, he would set out onto the street again, to follow the sounds from the bloodthirsty dogs that seemed to be storming the ruins of the city in search of someone. Probably a poor bastard that possesed something. They took it, then they used the person as living prey, finding entertainment in chasing and taking it down. Downright bastards. With his AK in hand, he advanced through the ruins, precautious of his surroundings. There weren't only those damned rebels he should worry about. One of the mutants could also pop up. He knew for a fact that Diggers prefered these zones, for whatever reasons. These creatures were set to erase humans and they would find them anywhere.


A quick movement made him turn around and look at the street he has just exitted. Someone has definitely run past and behind him, but probably didn't even notice his presence. He even heard her panting. The breath. It was obvious that this was a woman. He followed the way she took and he quickly noticed how the plastic lid of the dumpster fell back, covering the dumpster and hiding away whoever did use it to hide in it. So, that's what those rebels were looking for. Turning around, he decided that he had to go off looking for them. He needed their supplies more than anything and he was ready to do anything for those. His wish has been granted when the five men appeared, firstly spread out, from behind different ruins. He kept his upright posture as they closed in to him. A bald man with a cocky glance about his face stood in the middle, and apparently, all the others seemed to be revolving around him. So he was the leader.


"Ey, you, you seen a running bitch 'round here? She owes us a piece of pussy, and if you tell us where she is, we might let you take part in the night we prepared for her. I'm sure you 'aven't seen a good piece in quite a while, did you?"


As the stranger man already knew, the rebels were heavily armed. If he would have a bit of a fear, he could believe that to put up a fight with them was futile. However, he didn't respond, for the first minute, in any way to them. He had a slight advantage of height over them, he stood at 6 feet and 1 inch, but that wasn't going to help way too much. If they would've only seen the scorn his gaze bore. He looked down upon each, and silently wished them hell, all while they were gazing back into his sunglasses and wondering what in the world took him so long to answer.


"I haven't seen shit, mate, now get lost." He answered in the most harsh and dry of tones, attracting immediate anger from the five. The leader was quick to draw his pistol and with no other introductions, to shove it under the man's chin, believing the latter was scaredy and would succumb to this. Big was his surprise when the stranger did nothing, but simply stood there, defying him as he burned now with rage. How could someone be so damned brave? He was either too courageous, or out of his minds, for good. Lose your shit and you're fucked, the stranger repeated within his own mind, standing as tall and still as he could, in an insane act of defiance adressed to the rebels. It wasn't that which motivated him, however. He was listening to the ground, closely, with much more attention than he payed to the five men that were already growing impatient and were thinking of eliminating him.


There was a slight tremor beneath his feet. A pebble would hit his boot with an unaudible sound, but he could still feel it. That was when his lips curved into a grin of maliciousness and scorn, as well as satisfaction. One of the men was quick to notice and, aiming towards the stranger's head, having had enough of the tension, he shouted out.


"Okay, i've had about enough of your fucking play, i'll- "


He didn't finish his words. The ground beneath him would crack, and his feet would get sucked in. A stream of blood was quick to errupt, as well as an erratic scream as the man was all but swallowed by the ground, turned into a bloody mass of meat and gore. Blood splattered on the other rebels that turned around to watch the horrid scene of their mate being sucked into the Mouth Of Hell. So it was known. A Digger took advantage of the situation and found the perfect moment to come for a meal. The rebels started shooting desperately at the thing as it emerged from the ground, revealing itself as a monstruous worm of sizes at least twice as big as a grown human. The shots would hit into its hard kitin and would only attract more rage from the mutant beast. This is the time. The stranger took the chance and waited no longer. Hitting the leader in the back of the head with the AK, he grabbed his weapon and proceeded to use it to shoot the other men down, along with him. Four corpses lain now on the ground as the Digger would turn its attention towards him.


But he stood just as straight and tall as so far, even if his heart was almost racing. Looking at the beast from up close gave him serious shivers. But he wouldn't give in. Not now. Taking his aim, he only needed a precise riff of shells before, with a loud, painful shriek, the worm like creature would let out black blood squirting from the space at the joint between its head and the rest of the elongated body. Its soft spot. Luckily, it seemed the whole chaos didn't lure in more beasts. The male now stood, gazing down upon the corpses of the rebels and the beast he had just shot down. From between the razor like teeth within its mouth, two bloody eyes gazed right at him, from a face covered in blood, left with a sinister open mouth from which poured blood. The first of the rebels suffered a painful death.


The stranger now turned around, fixing his gaze upon the trash container the woman was hidden in, but yet remaining silent. She sure had to know where these nuissances had their camp.

 

[FaithWynters]

She shifted her body in the container. She tried to remain as silent as possible as she moved the bag on top of her. She was lucky that there was nothing in the container because she was very aware that there would be quite a long time spent inside. She could feel the grime of past trash on her skin, but it was still pitch black.


She pulled the double barrel up to her chest as she waited for the sounds to get closer. It would hurt her to shoot the gun in this space, but if it meant getting the advantage, then she would have to do it. In turn, it would probably bust her eardrums, but she knew what she would have to do. There was no choice besides this for her. She couldn’t have gotten away from them.


Every muscle tensed at the sound of voices nearby. They had followed her to the opening in the alleyway, but…had they come across someone else? She listened closely to their words. There were only a few she could make out through the metal. The words sent a chill up her spine. They would be looking for her until the daylight left them.


"I haven't seen shit, mate, now get lost." Those words came over clear. That was good. An enemy of the men. That would work well in her favor. They might forget about her and just deal with him. If it was only one, then he was likely going to be dead after this encounter, but at least it would get them off of her back for a while.


Then, she felt it. The metal conducted the vibrations as if she were pressed against the dirt. At first, she didn’t recognize them, but the longer she listened, the more dread filled her body. It was a digger. It wasn’t here for her though, she was almost positive of that. The men had made the mistake of making too much noise; it was after a quick meal.


Blood curdling screams echoed against the walls. It wasn’t a long scream—they never were. They opened up the earth, dropped your friends down to hell, and there was no stopping it. They were gone. Then you were left to fight the monster. She pressed her eyes closed at the sound of gunshots. So many wasted bullets, and as they silenced, she was left only with the sound of her breathing. Her heart was racing and it beat in her ears. She was safe now. They were all dead. She might just have to fight the mutant.


She picked herself up so that she was crouching in the container. She was very slow as she used her fingers to push the plastic container up, only a few inches. Instantly, she saw the blood. There were bodies lying on the ground. There was even a mutant’s body. It’s dark blood pooled around its corpse. Her eyes shifted silently around the scene until she saw the feet that were still standing. Dream filled her stomach as it wrapped itself into knots. She lowered herself slightly so she could look at an angle at the one living man. She didn’t recognize him, but...Shit. He was staring right at the container. Had he seen her hide here before? She let the lid fall and she pressed her back to the metal. She raised the double barrel toward the plastic lid. She was sure he had seen her. There was nothing else she could do.

 

[Atherium]

Definitely, someone was hiding in the trash container, he could notice with his eagle like eyes how the lid rose and lowered ever so slight. The woman was probably scared out of her minds to have gone to such lenghts as to jump in and not come out, not even after the apparent threat has been wiped away. Now, the man stood and thought, what should he be doing? There were two obvious things he could opt for. First, he could simply satisfy his curiosity and approach this new human being. A road company wouldn't be that bad after all, even if he was in serious doubt that she'd be anything else than a deadweight chained to his ankle, that could slow him down, greatly. He needed to take care of himself, and this would get in his way really much.


However, she probably knew where the dead bastards near him had their hideout and she would surely be able to lead him there. So he could try and approach her. What could possibly go wrong? She didn't seem to have had a gun. If she did, she would've probably used it against the rebels. But what if she did have a gun and would shoot it out of fright? It would be pretty fucking stupid of him to have survived so long and get killed by a scared little girl trying to run off from a bunch of cretins. The second path he could take was to simply leave her there and see to his own. But that way, he wouldn't find out where the guys had their hideout, neither if there were more of them close by. For sure, the first option seemed much more viable. In a last instance, he could simply rid himself of her when she was going to show him the place. He needed no weight more on his shoulders.


A sound from behind distracted him from the line of thoughts. He clearly heard a gasp filled with pain, and right after, the sound of gun loading. Quick to turn on his heels, he observed the movement. One of the former soldiers was not dead. Not yet. The man looked up to him and gave him a frightening stare, as he struggled with holding the handgun pointed to him. His mouth was filled with blood, coming out from his wounded insides. You won't just give up, will you? He thought as he looked down upon the dying aggressor, having absolutely no feelings about the latter. No pity, no regret, no remorse, no hate. Empty was his soul and empty were his eyes as he aimed to the rebel. A last second would keep the tension up before, with cold blood, he pulled the trigger, shooting a short round into the head of the vile survivor, sending him out of the world, for good. Blood and gore would splatter from the head that exploded to splinters, and brain matter mixed with blood quickly spread on the ground.


The man remained looking at the trickling blood. Humans were so frail. Turning around, at last, he now focused back on the trash container. Steps taken with precaution led him there in short time. He kept his gaze cast forward and payed big attention to whether the lid would open or not. It seemed it wasn't going to. A slight tension would rise within him as he approached more, and more. He wasn't afraid, actually, he was curious as to whoever was hiding in there. A peaceful human being was something he'd never thought he'd ever meet again. These days, anyone seemed to be trying to kill someone else just to steal their possesions, small as they were. nothing new, he did the same. He made a habit out of hijacking the rebel camps along the roads and taking whatever he'd find there.


With the weapon pointed towards the lid of the dumpster, he reached his free hand to lift it. He was so glad for this new weapon he got from the ringleader. Despite it being so big and powerful, as well as effective, it was also really light, giving him the ability to hold it with one arm, steady even as he shot it. One of the last inventions the human race would make before they'd get wiped out. So sad. As the lid was open, the man took a careful gaze from behind the sunglasses at the person inside. He couldn't see her all too well, but he could recognize the double barrel of a gun, a gun she seemed to be embracing as if it was a fluffy bear. This asked for even more precaution. Pointing his aim towards what seemed to be the top of her head, he spoke out in a dry tone.


"Hey. It's okay, you can come out now. These guys got what was coming for them."

 

[FaithWynters]

You should have just jumped out and ran for the door. No—that was an automatic weapon he had. There was no way you could have outrun it. He would have shot you down. No. You did the right thing. Don’t worry about this. You’ll do fine. When he opens up the top, just give him a shell to his head. What if he shoots you through the metal? Shit. No. You had no other choice. Just be ready. Maybe he won’t kill you. Maybe he didn’t even see you. Are those footsteps? Shit. Just listen. You can do this. You know how people work. Make the tears start. Yes! Lie your way out of this. You’re a stupid girl. You don’t know anything. Men always fall for that. Good. But your gun. Its old. He’ll think you don’t know any better. You’ll get his pity. You can run off. Or kill him and take his stuff. An automatic weapon would help a lot. Yeah. Take his stuff. You deserve it more than him. Fight him. Make him think you are friends and kill him while his back is turned. A little bit of time. Planning. Steal from him slowly. Drain him of his resources. Do whatever you have to do to survive.


An eternity passed. The darkness that surrounded her ate at her skin. Black and thick like sludge the nothingness swelled aground her and burned her skin. It was feasting on her worries and her fears. Every second her skin crawled with the feeling of dirt and grim. There was only a single line of light coming into the hollow metal. She watched it as if there was nothing left in the world. This small thin line was her only connection with the world outside. If she saw movement, she would be ready for the attack. She watched the bright line only taking time to blink. Her breathing was soft and the tears that had flowed down her cheeks were beginning to dry. She would wait to begin again until he was close.


There was no movement. Her mind began to wander. God I want a shower. Look at where I am. Stuck in a fuckin’ dumpster. I haven’t had a shower in years. I miss hot water. I wonder if there'll be anywhere with water. That pond in the park would be nice. Shit. There's a cockroach.


“Ugh” The sound sent a shot of realization through her. How long had she been sitting here and waiting for him to come to her? What was that noise? She picked herself up and moved toward the white line. She waited a moment for movement before picking up the lid again. It was only open about an inch. One of the men wasn’t dead. It looked up at the man and pointed a weapon at it. She watched him a moment. The man’s back was to the dumpster. She watched silently as he raised his weapon. So he was merciless? She flinched at the sound of the gunfire. Yes. He was merciless. There was no more life in this man. She dropped the lid again and crouched, pressing her back against the metal. She pointed the weapon back toward the lid and waited. Tears began to pool on the rims of her eyelids. Soft sobs echoed from her lips. She unbuttoned and unzipped her pants. She knew he would be here to get her soon.


Another eternity passed. Then, the bright light from outside spread across her vision and blinded her for a moment. She brought a hand up to shield her eyes. She kept her weapon trained on him. She would be fine with dislocating her shoulder in order to kill him. She just needed to be ready. Her eyes adjusted and she saw the man’s face. Another quiet sob escaped her lips.


"Hey. It's okay, you can come out now. These guys got what was coming for them." Another choked sob. She used the strength in her legs to push her body up the back of the dumpster. She didn’t fire. Damn it. You lost your chance. Tears streamed down her face and snot had rolled out of her nose.


“T-They said that they were—They were—“She didn’t continue. She broke out into a sob. They pitied you when you cried like you were worthless. Maybe they thought it was cute. Maybe some deep instinctual movement inside of them kept you alive, but he was merciless. She wasn’t sure it would work.


“T—Thank you” The words pooled from her lips and she moved toward the edge of the dumpster. If he had wanted to kill her, she would have already been dead. She pulled herself up over the edge, but ended up on the ground. She grunted, and picked herself up. She still had her weapon, and she kept it pointed at him. She wasn’t going to take a risk. “I-I can’t take any more risks like that.” The tears had almost stopped, and she brought a hand up to run it beneath her nose. She wiped it on the camo pants that hung loosely on her thin frame.Her pants had fallen from the jump, but she needed to be able to look like they had just tried to take her dignity from her. It seemed, by the words that he had spoken, that the thought of them raping her had been the cause for his attack. Good. It would work for her.

 

[Atherium]

The image struck the back of his mind. She seemed to be more than scared. Absolutely frightened, yes, that was the best word to describe her. Whatever did happen to her seemed to have pushed this girl way over the edge. The stranger man took a stand, returning her aiming the weapon at him with another aim. He held his gun in one hand, pointed towards the woman. Desperation could always get her to shoot him, and he didn't exactly want that. If there was one single little sign of her trying something, he'd turn her head to splinters in seconds. Her voice rang in his ears as she rose from her position, still keeping her aim towards him, an aim that was more than wrongly taken and with a horribly shaking arm. She'd end up destroying her own shoulder if she did shot. And she wouldn't even manage to touch him. The recoil would send the shell way past him. That would also be helped by the fact that her weapon was too old.


He didn't, however, feel anything towards her, not even when her pants dropped, exposing her, somewhat. So much time spent in solitude granted him the ability to detach himself from his desires and cravings, and all he could see now in her was the means of reaching the rebel camp and emptying it of goods that will help a great matter in his survival. Again, she will be heavy weight for him to carry, but he could rid himself of her anytime, after she led him there. Until she revealed the location to him, however, he had to act normal and also had to protect her through the whole course. Heavy weight, indeed. After a matter of minutes of gazing her upon and trying to establish in his mind what age would she be, he finally decided to speak up, his voice coming off with no emotion implemented. Dehumanization got the best out of him.


"I didn't save you. I just wanted to kill them. These guys must have a hideout, do they? Where is it?"


He didn't wait to get an answer before, with slow but decided steps, he turned around. He, by now, knew she wouldn't shoot him from behind. Something just told him she wouldn't do it, not for the sake of self or of safety. She wanted to be safe, and she probably was going to exploit her chance at taking him as a guardian. Deadweight, that is all that she was to him. Patience, he spoke within his mind as he crouched down next to the corpse of the former ringleader now turned into a piece of dead flesh lying on the ground. Not letting the weapon from his hands, he began searching the man's clothes and pockets. Knives, some useless trinkets, change coins. What he could use the latter for was unknown to the man, but he simply shrugged and discarded them on the ground. He then proceeded to checking up the second corpse, and, fighting nothing there either, he moved on to the third and fourth. The only valuable he was able to pick was a pack of cigarettes. At least that.


Lighting himself one of the sweet cancer sticks, he finally stood from the crouching position and turned around. The stranger girl seemed to be still there, not having said one word for or against him. Gazing upon her from behind the sunglasses, the man finally signaled for her to move along as he spoke out loud.


"Come on, let's get out of here. Lead me to their place."

 

[FaithWynters]

Good. The stupid way she holds her weapon and acts makes him doubt her. He thinks that the way she acts is a natural reaction to whatever has happened to her. He thinks she has been pushed over the edge. He doesn’t fear her. Stupid man. She may have been ill armed, but she is not ill-informed of her strengths. There’s a reason she’s survived for so long. Anyone that’s survived this long should be taken as a threat; she will never forget that.


"I didn't save you. I just wanted to kill them. These guys must have a hideout, do they? Where is it?" You’re right. If it wasn’t for you they would have kept going.


She watches him through tears, bringing her hand up to push them away. Her breathing is harsh against the silence that spreads around them. She takes her time slowing her breaths. For a long while, she doesn’t answer him. He turns before she decides to answer, and begins searching the bodies.


Now’s your chance. Hit him. Kill him. Shoot him. Kill him. She takes a step toward him and lowers her weapon. It’s no longer trained on his back. Her breathing is still heavy and she tries hard to continue the harsh breaths without making herself dizzy. She’s gotten good at this con. What the fuck are you doing, Samantha? Take the butt of your gun and beat him to death with it. Enjoy the splatters of blood against your warm skin. Crush his skull beneath your boot. He’s just a stupid man. He turned your back on you. He deserves it. Fucking kill him.


The only movement she takes is to zip and button her pants. It had done what it needed to do. It furthered the con. That was all. She watched him a few more moments. Her breathing had slowed and there were no more tears. There weren’t even the traces of her tears except the bloodshot of her eyes and the look on her face.


He crouched at their dead bodies and searched their pockets. She had done this many times before. It seemed that nothing on the first few bodies caught his eye. He dropped a knife on the ground. She wondered why he wouldn’t take the opportunity of taking another weapon. Everything screamed at her to kill him now, but something stopped her. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she kept a good few feet between them. Something would bite her in the ass for her decision—she knew it—but she still had time to kill him later. She would just have to watch her back.


"Come on, let's get out of here. Lead me to their place." God I hate you already. That wasn't anything new. She hated everyone she came across. It was a good thing she had a handle on her thoughts, because if that had passed her lips, she never would have made it out of the alleyway.


“I-I never said I would take you back there” Her voice still quivered, and she walked past him—in the direction of the paths she had taken before. She stopped at one of the men’s bodies, and picked up the knife. She slipped its clip onto the inside of her pocket. That might be useful later. She gritted her teeth, and sent the heel of her boot through the head of the last man to die. A sickening crunch put a small smile on her face. He got what he deserved. The fucker.


“Come on. It’s this way.” She cleared her throat one more time, spitting a mixture of phlegm and saliva on the dead men’s bodies. Then, she started back toward the alleyway that she had run through. It was dangerous to take the same path that she had taken with the men making so much noise. They were bound to find a creature or two nearby that traveled here with the noise. She didn’t care because there was no other way.

 

[Atherium]

As if you'd have a choice, he thought as she seemed to deny his will of going to the hideout of the rebels. But he knew she would change her mind quickly. She probably needed supplies just as much as he did, and she wouldn't miss her chance. He was the only viable way she could use to get there safely. She had witnessed him and she knew that he feared nothing and also, that he was a good enough shot to keep them both alive. He cast a gaze towards her and watched as she stepped on the cracked skull, cracking it furthermore with what seemed to be a pleasure to do it. For a girl that was crying not even five minutes ago, she had quite the attitude to play with the corpses he provided.


A smirk made its way across his lips as the woman took her stance, now turning from led to leader, spitting on the corpses and then moving along. The girl had much more attitude, it seemed, so much that he started enjoying it, after all. Already. Taking gazes left and right, to make sure nothing more was creeping around the corner for the time being, he proceeded to follow the woman in the direction she had taken. He was still slightly behind her, walking as slow as she did as not to get ahead of her. Something in her told him that he wouldn't be able to rid himself of her when time came. For whatever reason, he started liking being around her from the moment he first gazed upon her, and he knew that feeling would persist.


It'll pass, he thought again as he perked his sense and shut down his process of thought so he could pay 100% attention to the surrounding. The alleyway they have just entered was quite narrow, taking through a set of old, half demolished blocks. Who knew what lurked within them. The air outside was hot, and the sun was just up the sky. It would be yet another long day of heat in which he'd have to ration the small supplies of water he had. Hopefully, those fuckers stocked enough water for a good refill, as he couldn't carry too much in his backpack. But who knows, maybe they had a vehicle? No, that was more than sure not true, else they'd have chased down the girl in the car. Moreover, they wouldn't have had where to get fuel for so many years.


"What's your name?" The man asked as he finally stepped up, now reaching to her side and walking along with her, despite the alleyway being so narrow. They had enough space and they could use it. He started feeling strange being only led by her, even if, technically, she was the only one knowing the way to the place. However, he could hear how far in the distance, sounds were heard. Sounds of heavy slams applied to the ground. Something was walking about and he knew for sure what it was. It was a mutant, one of the strains that chose to evolve by growing considerably in size. Due to this, it made heavy sounds while travelling on the ground. But by the distant sound, he could easily assume it was safe for them. The thudding was way louder when the creature was close. By the sound of it, the thing was just passing by, heading towards hell knew where.

 

[FaithWynters]

As the girl moved to turn, she caught the faintest glint of a smirk. Maybe he knew something she didn’t, or he just found her actions a little more calming. She could handle herself, if she wasn’t being chased by four or five men that were out to do nothing more than beat her within an inch of her life and take turns having their way with her. They all had weapons much better than hers, and there would have been no way to lie her way out of their camp. Sometimes, a girl had to choose between fight and flight; it just seemed to be flight this time.


She really wasn’t happy about going back to that place. She had only been there a day, but she knew that the atrocities would be burned into her mind forever.




Naked corpses rotting on the concrete outside of the building would send her into nightmares. Each one died with their faces twisted in the expressions of fear and sorrow. Dripping corpses. The smell of sex and rotting flesh mixed into a scent that made her nauseous. She almost got sick on the sidewalk, but the gun that was pressed into her back made her keep moving into the dark building. The thick metal doors were the only things keeping the outside world and its stench from those inside. The door closed behind her. Everything was dark for a moment. The sounds of grunts and moans could be heard from behind a door. Her stomach curled upon itself. He seemed so right before. That’s when she had decided to kill the man behind her and take his things.


When they were done with them, they would toss them right out into the street like shit. She watched it multiple times as she sat on that dark chair and ate quietly. Screams echoed in the hollow hallways. A door would open, and the form of a man, holding a thin and frail body to his chest would make his way to the front doors. Warm drops of blood dripped from their bodies, and she never knew if they were alive or not. Some would use their last bit of energy to kick or to scream, but none ever got away. They were thrown into small piles, their bodies making dull noises at they hit the ground and one another. They were an army of beautiful faces. An army lost to the sickness of this world. She would never forget their faces.




It was worse than she had ever imagined it might have been in one of those rebel camps. In a world full of the sick and twisted, it was hard not to evolve with the times. That was an unacceptable evolution. The human race was dying because of men like that. Teeth clenched together in a tight bond. It made her sick thinking about it. That’s why—even though it looked as if she had relaxed—she was ready for anything this man could throw at her. The tremor was gone, the tears were gone, and all the emotions were gone. And it was believable, because that’s how much the world had changed. She still wasn’t looking forward to the trek back to that horrible place. She wasn’t looking forward to the sick sounds of the few men that had stayed to guard their base. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into.


She glanced across the small space at him. The sun above made it warm and the black she wore didn’t help. It was hard to come across clothes that actually fit her small frame in this world. Now they were getting friendly? She listened quietly to the silence around them. It was more important. They were coming up to another corner in the alleyway that led to the opening. A long street made short by her running before would meet them soon. She turned down the alley, and walked alongside thick grey bricks covered in old paint and graffiti. Now that she knew they were safe for a moment, she turned slightly to watch him.


“The name’s Sam.” She smirked, and rolled her eyes. “Or Samantha if you’re my mother.” She tightened her grip on the weapon; she need not forget about the dangers that could be everywhere. She had enough scars that is was engrained in her mind. “What about you? Got a name?” The vibrations in the ground were small compared to the sound that could be heard. That was good. It was far away. Nothing would be coming after them right now. She could relax a little—keep listening for them—but relax.

 

[Atherium]

"Don't be a smartass." He responded as toneless as he possibly could to the remark she made concerning the way he should call her. In other instances and times, he might've actually found it funny enough and he would also be able to put up a decent comeback. However, embittered as he was, he could not find anything funny in it. He didn't actually see how she would believe this was funny, but she didn't quite make the point. When she landed the question about his own name, if he

did have

one, he was faced with a slight surprise. Was she really interested in that, or did she do it for the main purpose of chit-chatter while they were walking through this place?


Anyhow, it didn't matter, giving his name to her wouldn't be of too much consequence in the relationship establishing between them.


"Name is...". What? What was his name? It's been so long since he spoke to a decent person that he now discovered having totally forgotten what his name was. He tried remaking memories of people calling up to him, but he could get nothing.

What really is your name?

He wondered as he took his time to think, not observing for the moment being the world around him. But out of all the rubbish gathered in his mind, something sparked. For a moment there, it seemed insignificant but then, just like a beam of light, it ignited and burnt aflame, remembering him what his name was. "Vladimir. Vladimir is my name."


He was the last descendant of a long family line with Russian roots. Probably why he was so easy to become a war machine when need arose. Anyway, Samantha wouldn't need to know all of that crap, and nothing else about him. They weren't making friends, merely taking advantage each of the other. He offered protection and she gave him the location. He drifted now in the line of thoughts tied to the hideout. Where the rebels he took out the only ones? Usually, they should have been, but sometimes, one could locate bigger groups. They would hunt in parties while others were taking care of the goods.


"How many others are there?" He finally questioned on the same monotonous tone as ever. He simply couldn't and didn't want to put any emotion into his speaking pattern. He didn't give a damn whether she received his message as passive or hostile. Why would he, after all? Anyhow, the idea of getting rid of her was now lowering down quite a bit. He was now pondering between executing her on spot or just parting ways just as they met. Spontaneously. The second option seemed more viable than the first, for the simple fact that he didn't hate her. He felt nothing towards her, not even symphathy. No hate.


"5? 10? 20?" He asked yet again, while keeping his gaze on the way ahead, being on the lookout for any suspicious movement that might appear.

 

[FaithWynters]

What an asshole. She had hoped that the joke would have lightened the mood. Maybe it would have brought a smile to that smug ass face of his. She had so many things she could say to him. She rolled her eyes and kept walking. She felt safe enough, that she could probably spout off a few more times. If he had wanted to kill her—no matter what kind of wall he was putting up—he would have done it already. Besides, the less and less likable he made himself, the easier it would be to kill him later on. She could already think of the different ways she’d like to take his breath away.


“Didn’t I tell you? Smartass is my middle name.” She honestly could care less about what he thought of her. She had become a really good shot in the recent years, and she wasn’t proud of it, but she had beaten enough people to death to know where she could hit to kill them.


"Name is..." She glanced back at him. She was confused, but she didn't let it show. What is this guy’s problem? How do you not remember your name? Maybe it was some sort of play on her, to make her think of him as being more dangerous. Because—really—a name is the only thing anyone had from the old world. Names are the only connection to our humanity. Because forgetting his name meant that he would no longer have an identity. It made her think no less or more of him. It was probably just a rouse to get her to think he had lost himself. This world had changed people, but she found it hard to believe that it changed people like that.


"Vladimir. Vladimir is my name." She let out the light breath she didn’t realize that she had been holding. So he did have a name. And he remembered it. She bit her tongue. She didn’t want to say what she had been thinking. What are you a vampire? She let out the quietest of noises. It was what was left of a stifled giggle. If he was going to act like he had a stick shoved up his ass, then she thought it would be okay to make fun on him in her head. They would never be friends, so she didn’t care.


She wanted so badly just to let out a groan. His voice; he was so level. Sam assumed that was because he didn’t want her to feel the emotions he had coursing through him. Great. She looked out across the clearing. The two lane street cut a divider in the buildings. Debris littered the ground and made every step one that could shift underfoot. She had to be careful here. It was neither the time nor the place to fall and bust it on the asphalt.


“Four or five were left.” She coughed quietly, stepping onto a steady piece of sidewalk. She could see the green of the trees in the distance. That’s where they were headed. Back through the park with the beautiful pond, and across a small parking lot. Across from that was a line of buildings. That’s where they were headed.


“More might have been out on patrol though; I wasn’t there long enough to know their patrolling patterns.”

 

[Atherium]

What in the hell is she giggling about? He wondered as he sneaked a peak at the girl who tried so hard to muffle the impulse to laugh. He didn't understand why, but what he knew was that she found herself the worst moment for such. The part they were walking through now was, as he saw, one that he hasn't been through before. Too bad he couldn't use this time to scavenge through the ruins. Whoever knows what he might find. However, he felt slightly uncomfortable. It was as if something or someone was watching from a distance, and that made him get a tighter grip on his weapon. He had to get ready for a leap attack any time soon.


"More might've been on patrol? That would be a weird group. These sort of fuckwits don't last long in big groups. They often kill each other for more food. Fuckin' twats." He made his remark with a somewhat amused and also irritated tone. The fact that he, at the moment, had no idea what waited around the corner was driving him somewhat mad, but for the sake of silence, he kept the irritation to himself. His gaze ran over the field ahead and around him as he tried his best to keep it all in sight. Thus, he detached himself yet again from the reality that someone was walking along with him, and focused on the sole purpose of locating anything that might lay within sight. A bird suddenly taking flight from behind a broken down wall made him quickly turn and take his aim towards the place. That meant no good. Birds would fly away like that only if something or someone scared them away.


He tried perking his hearing, and listening to the sounds on the spot. He remained standing upstraight on his place, and listening carefully. For the first moments, there was absolutely nothing, however, a brick being set aside by obviously someone behind the wall made it clear enough that there was a person there. Taking a hand off his machine gun, he signaled for Samantha with a finger, pointing it towards the spot. He hoped she would know that, in such moment, he wished of her to be as quiet as possible. Only seconds later would he start his way towards the spot, taking maximum care with his steps as he approached the wall, lowering himself down enough as for the person on the other side not to spot him. Finally having reached the place, he put his back to the wall and again, signaled for the girl to follow what he did. Though he doubted she would.


Indeed, somebody was fiddling with something behind the wall. He could hear a shallow breath and he could also smell the smoke of a cigarette. In his mind, he was already preparing the possible scenarios. Most likely, it was one of the rebels. In that case, he should proceed to eliminating the person as quietly as possible, not to attract the attention of others that might be lurking around. Finally deciding on the weapon he should use, Vladimir set the machine gun upon the ground and, from his waist, he withdrew a long, shiny hunting knife. It looked as sharp as it could be, as he kept all of his weapons in the best shape possible. His musculature was now tight with tension, and he slightly gritted his teeth in the wake of adrenaline, before, without previous notice, he rolled around the broken wall, leaping at the person behind. Samantha would hear shuffling behind the wall and a muffled mumble, then the sound of a fire weapn being dropped.


Vladimir held the knife to the man's throat, while holding his mouth shut with his free hand. Indeed, his supposition was right. This guy was, as it looked, a rebel that went stray of the others, in search of who knew what. Just great. Now he could interrogate his hostage and find out more about the others.

 

[FaithWynters]

It might have been strange for the group to send out patrols like that because they didn’t particularly get along, but she knew what she had said. When dealing with strangers, she wanted to make sure to overestimate. That meant they were expecting more instead of being ready to only have to take out three men and having to fight eight. It was a safe estimation. She liked safe. I was an easy way to keep him from being surprised. Sam was doing him a favor.


She smiled at his blunt insults; it was a good release from the tense air that had been surrounding them. He was right though when he said that they killed themselves. They fought over everything. Their shouts and gunfire could be heard anytime that they were nearby. It was a good thing that they were so loud though; they would have been a lot more dangerous had they not shouted as if they owned the city. Their numbers were strong and dangerous for most. If you listened to the city, it would tell you all you needed to know. That’s how Sam had survived alone for so many years. Sure, she had become a heartless killer, but she had also learned how to listen to the silence and know what the sounds meant. That—and about a million miracles—had kept her alive. The quieter the group, the longer they lasted. The rebels weren’t quiet. It was almost as if they were incapable of silence.


She didn’t say anything. Before she could make another smart comment, the movement ahead of them drew her attention away. Her grip on her weapon tightened. She knew that meant only one thing about the trek ahead of them. She stopped, and everything in her head told her to hide behind rubble or one of the destroyed cars nearby. Everything in her nature screamed that she needed to hide. She didn’t make it through this world by fighting. Sam did it by hiding.


He signaled to her, and she rolled her eyes; he needed to remember that she was just as aware as he was. Well…He had found her in a dumpster. She couldn’t fully blame him; Sam could blame him just a tad. When he started moving, Sam knew that she had two options. She could either stay the twenty feet back and hole up behind the broken down car to the left of her, or she could follow him and make sure he was okay.


She cursed herself as she started walking behind him. Sam kept a good distance between them; she kept herself about five feet away. She just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to die, and if he did, she could kill the other and take their stuff. She wanted to make sure she didn’t miss the opportunity to scavenge. That was the only reason that she followed his movements like he motioned for her to do. She pressed her back to the wall, holding the weapon tightly. Samantha just watched him. He placed his weapon on the ground and pulled out a knife. Her muscles tightened; he was stupid. She could take his gun and run. Did he really trust her that much, or was he more worried about the threat on the other side of the wall?


He was gone. Sam pressed herself as close to the wall as she could. Grunts. The sound of a weapon hitting the ground. She jerked downward at the sound. It was a natural reaction to the threat of weapons being used. Then, there was a shuffling, and a continued silence. Silence. Samantha released the death-pressure she had on the wall, and walked alongside it. The silence was either a very good thing, or a very bad thing. She watched as the wall slowly began to crumble away from her body. She stopped, took in a slow breath, and pushed herself around the wall. They lay on the ground. Well…he wasn’t dead. She had her weapon trained on them the moment she turned. If Vladimir had been bleeding out, she would have let loose on the rebel; he wasn’t dead.


Come on. Do it. Just pull the trigger, Sam. You can take both of them with one shell. You won’t have to worry about getting killed at the damn camp. You can take their stuff and go on your way. What are you waiting for? Stop being a bitch. Just. Do. It.


No. She let the weapon fall. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t know what it was about the man, but something stopped her from killing them. Maybe she knew that it wouldn’t work out well for her had she pulled the trigger. Maybe she knew she would get so much more out of him before she left him for dead. She didn’t know. She pulled the knife out of her pocket, pushing the small button that slung the blade into place; she had picked it up back in the alleyway.


Slit his fucking throat. Make him bleed for his stupidity. He shouldn't have turned his back on you. He doubts you; you doubt yourself. Feel his warm blood on your hands. We need his food, Samantha. Don't you care about that? You're going to starve later on because you're weak. You deserve what you get.


Sam kept her silence. She wouldn't kill him. This was not her place to interfere.Samantha could stand back and watch their interaction; she might learn something from it. Sam knew she could see a weakness if she paid enough attention. She walked up to the men, one on top of the other, and the other with his body pinned to the ground. She gave the two a straight face as she reached forward. She gave Vladimir a look that said 'I dare you to stop me'. He gripped a bag in his hand. She grabbed it, and yanked hard. The strap the poor man gripped with all of his strength ripped with a pleasing noise that broke the silence again. Picking herself up, Sam rushed through the rubble of the building. She pressed her back against the wall, farthest away from the two men. Sam fell to her knees, opened up the bag, and began searching for anything she might want; who would stop her anyway?

 

[Atherium]

In vain the rebel struggled against the steel grip that Vladimir was holding on him. The knife would be pushed to the limit against his throat, and after two movements of his head to the left and right, a thin trail of blood would make its way down his neck, deterring him from moving his head any further. He was caught in a vicious death trap and his only way out would be, well, death. Or, as he was told by Vladimir, honest answers to questions.


"Lie to me, and i'll make sure you get an ugly and painful road to Hell. I can feel your heartbeat and any fluctuation i'll feel will become the warning for me that you are lying. Your friends that left the camp are dead. How many of you are left?" Vladimir questioned in a raspy, low tone, near the ear of the deserted ex-soldier, as he jerked him slightly, just enough to put a little bit more fear into his bones. The man couldn't respond, at first, having his mouth kept shut with a heavy hand. Vladimir would, however, set it free enough so he could mutter through, but not too much. The least he wanted was to have the rebel scream out and attract others towards the place.


"2 at the base... It's all we have. I'm on patrol duty for now. We run shifts." The rebel muttered, before his mouth would be blocked again by the hand. In a quick motion, Vladimir would violently jerk his head to the right, his cervical spine cracking loudly. The rebel's body was quick to go convulsing before it would fall limp with the last breath of life gone. He got the information he needed, and this man was now nothing of use. Standing, Vlad wiped the little blood off his knife on his own tank top. It was black, so it wouldn't matter anyway. Shooting a gaze to the girl through his sunglasses, he finally moved past her, grabbing his weapon again from behind the wall. It was time that they would storm the hideout, but in silence.


Minutes later, they would arrive into the place. Vladimir didn't even enjoy being led so much by this girl that seemed so unstable on her own mind, but what would he not do for the supplies he was about to gain after killing the two remaining rebels that were now, most likely, roaming about the place. Finding a tactical hideout spot, Vlad kept close to Samantha, and, in utmost silence, he questioned her.


"So, this is the place? You done ran quite much from here to where i found you."

 

[FaithWynters]

Why do these fuckers carry bags around if there’s hardly anything good in them? Really? Who reads porn when they’re supposed to be patrolling? Sicko.


She threw the magazine across the ground. It made the quietest sound as it slid across the ground.


Hm. Tequila. Okay. That’s not too bad. Not much left; good for cleaning wounds…maybe or drinking.


Sam unscrewed the top and took in a smell of the liquor. Good. It wasn’t just water. She resisted the urge to take a swig; she would need that later. She screwed the top on and slid the glass bottle into her bag. Sam looked back to the bag again.


A pencil. Who needs a broken pencil anyway? Yes. Two cans of Vienna sausage? That’s what I’m talking about! That makes this worth it. That makes it all worth it.


She dropped the cans into her bag and tightened the drawstrings. About that time, she heard the quiet crack. Samantha glanced up to see that the man lay dead on the ground; well, there was probably no other choice. He would have tried to kill both of them if he had been kept alive. It did go to show that the man couldn’t be trusted. Not only that, but he didn’t seem to right in his mind either. Sam threw the empty bag in the direction she threw the magazine. She then picked herself up.


Vlad was already gone. Sam wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to take whatever she could. Quickly Sam patted the warm body down for anything of use. Nothing; he had nothing else to take. As always, there was little to be had from these men. She let out the quietest of sighs as she followed him out of the building. He didn’t even bother to say anything to her. She came to a stop beside him as he picked up his weapon, and once she knew that he was ready, she continued toward their base camp.


After their encounter with the rebel, they didn’t speak again. They walked in silence through the beautiful park and across the street. They were nearby when they took up a place to see the base. It was just like she remembered it. Bodies were lain out in the street. Their naked skin looked toward the sky in some sick display. Samantha didn’t want to look at it, and she turned away at the sight. There were so many poor people.


“Yes. I can run, fast and hard; probably even faster than you.” Sam glanced to the building. She wanted to keep her voice down—just like he had. “They were chasing me, and I ran.” She nodded toward the building. That was the place that she had been only an hour or so ago. “When you go inside, there’s a small room that they have as a wall between the outside and the in.” She knelt down and began drawing a small map in the dirt. “Then you get into this big open area.” She drew two or three more boxes that met the larger room somewhere. “There are two rooms, here and here. Those are the places where they sleep.” She picked herself up. “If you go up the stairs, you’ll find the leader’s room.” She had been there, and killed a man with her bare hands. She was no his property, and now he knew that. “Their leader is dead. So there shouldn’t be anyone up stairs.”

 

[Atherium]

"I don't guess they'd be sleeping at this hour, would they? Unless they're brainfucked drunk." He replied thoughtful as he looked upon the drawing Samantha did in the dust. He looked up towards the entrance in the building and tried picturing the way as if he was seeeing it before his eyes, tridimensional. It shouldn't be hard to find two men in all that place, right? But there was Sam, and he didn't know whether or not she'll get out of his hand and go all Rambo by herself. The last thing he needed was having her do that.


"Listen, kid, i don't care what you do, just don't go all out, aight? I don't give a damn if you die, but if you interfere with what i'm doing, be sure i'll be the one to kill you, not them. I need my focus all on them, and i don't have the time to be looking out for your ass. So don't force me to." He spoke in a cold tone, adressing all the words with maximum seriosity to the girl. And he wasn't one to turn his word around. "We're going in through the front. Let's move out." He called to her as he exitted his cover, bending his upper torso forward while taking his aim, just as he would in a standard combat situation. He gazed with utter attention forward, trying to see what was lurking in the shadows provided in the inside of the building.


His eyes constantly rose and fell as he watched out for any sniper that might be hiding on the windows on the first storey. It seemed deserted. Suddenly, the idea of the two bastards lying drunk in a ditch became proeminent in his mind. But he wouldn't leave his guard down, for hell. As he stepped closer to the building, he tried using each and every vantage point, taking cover behind anything he'd meet in the way. For a moment, he crouched behind a barrell, poking his head out from behind it only as he remained there for somewhere less than a minute, looking at the entrance as if he hoped somebody would come out and make himself a clear target for a headshot. But silence was a sign that the "drunk in the ditch" hypothesis might actually be the naked truth.


Just as he was ready to stand and proceed forth, however, the air was ripped apart by gunshots. Tightening his grip on his own weapon, he couldn't help but wonder what was going on. He could see the sparks of the fires being shot into the air and darkness, and he could hear more than one type of sound. A heart wrenching human scream tore the building apart, just as quick as one of the set of gunshots vanished into thin air. Vladimir was beginning to guess what was happening, and stood still behind the barrel, as he watched it unfold. From the darkness, a man dressed in nothing but camo clothing and combat boots stumbled out running. His face was distorted with terror, and he even dropped his weapon on the way. He was dead set on getting the fuck out of the place. Vladimir now aimed his weapon at the stranger, preparing to take his shot, when, from the building, several shadows leaped out with incredible speed.


The next thing Vlad witnessed was the man, casting a last desperate gaze as a scythe like arm reached from behind him. The arm was quick to hit his stomach zone and pull. Blood splattered out as his body was all but cut in half, falling immediately to the ground in a pool of blood. The shadows stopped around the body, becoming now clear and identifying as Leapers, a strain of the mutants that gathered in small groups and hunted as group, just like raptors would in the prehistoric era. Only that here, humans were the prey. "Shit." Vladimir muttered through his teeth as he watched the Leapers devouring their meal. 5, 6, 7... Finally, he managed to count 10. How was he even supposed to take out 10 Leapers all by himself?


"Can you keep your hands in place and not miss 9 out of ten shots?" He asked Samantha, as she was the only help he could find. "If you miss, we're both fucked. You better not."

 

[FaithWynters]

“Not sleeping—maybe preoccupied but they won’t be sleeping” Sam wasn’t sure how anyone could sleep with all the horrible things they had done. Yeah, she had killed people, but that was for survival and defense. They took from people things that never should be taken from anyone. They were monsters—not survivors.


A soft smile pooled on her face and pulled the corners up into something that she thought might be pleasant. It was a good feeling; yeah, she was still alone, but she had Vlad. It wasn’t a strong partnership—actually she wouldn’t even call it a partnership, but they had traveled together, and now she was helping him by showing him the inside. It might have seemed like a silly idea, but knowing the battlefield before you were faced with it was a blessing in most cases.


"Listen, kid—“ What? Her smile fell almost instantly. What did he just call me? Kid. Yeah. Because I’m three years old and can kill people with my bare hands. Her jaw tightened. She was trying to look past the word and process the words that passed from his lips. A little respect might be nice…What an asshole. She was starting to think that of him more and more. It didn’t matter if he had possibly saved her life or possibly hadn’t. He was being a dick. She hoped that he wasn’t always like this, or she would have to end this partnership a little sooner than expected.


“Let’s move out.” She spoke quietly to herself, with a nasally tone. She rolled her eyes, and brought her weapon up to the ready. It wasn’t as good as some of the newer model weapons they had created before everything went to hell. Actually, it was probably too outdated for anyone that hadn’t had practice with it; she had enough practice with bad weapons to be good with this one though.


He shot out from cover first, and Sam followed quickly and silently behind him.The only good thing about being in a pair was that there were now two sets of eyes looking for anything out of the ordinary. She took most of her time scanning behind them and to the space in front of the building and away from it; he seemed occupied with watching the building and its higher windows. It was a trade.


The silence was only broken by the sound of rubble being scratched beneath her boot. It was an eerie feeling, and the silence actually sent a chill up her spine and made her hairs stand on end. This was like the calm before the storm, and she pressed her back against the roof of a car that had been turned on its side. She felt like something was going to go wrong very soon. Her instincts were very real.


Because of this feeling, she kept close to him—never letting him get more than five feet away from her. She would use the rubble and excess remnants of old life to cover herself as she followed him toward the door. He was watching for movement, and wanted to be aware of everything going on around them. She just wanted to stick close in case they needed to communicate.


Then, gunshots sliced through the silence and made Sam’s hears ring. She had been waiting for the storm, and it seemed that this would be that storm. Instinctively, she ducked; unsure of who the bullets were aimed at. When she realized they weren’t aimed at her, she pressed her back to the car, and walked down its length until she could peer just around the edge. She could see the muzzle flash from inside, and then, there was a scream. It was shrill and the sound made her pull herself back again and out of sight. Her stomach turned at the loss of noise in her ears. The sound had changed; she knew what was happening. There was heavy breathing and the sound of loud footsteps. She peered around again to watch the sight. He was frightened; he had been one of the younger grunts she had seen before. She could hardly even remember his face, but now that it was distorted in fear, she remembered the only time she had ever seen him—there had been the slightest glimmer of fear in his eye then, and now it was sheer terror; there was no other description for it. He ran, and had nothing else on his mind accept getting away from whatever was chasing him matter; fight or flight. Boy…he was flying.


The sickening sound of something sharp cutting through his body sent Sam’s stomach rolling again. Blood pooled around him; it was thick and red. He landed with a dull and lifeless thud in his own blood. His face was smeared with the liquid and his clothes began to soak it up. Sam’s grip on her weapon had tightened until her knuckles were white. Reapers were fast, and the man had not flown quite fast enough. Now, she counted them with soft movements of her lips. Too many to fight alone, but maybe, they could make a stand. They couldn’t run from the creatures. No—they were much too fast and they were smart. It wasn’t a good combination.


"Can you keep your hands in place and not miss 9 out of ten shots?" Her jaw tightened. What?Why was she the only one that seemed to be incapable? Just because he had found her in a garbage can meant nothing. She pulled her weapon back to her shoulder.


“I can hit ten.” Her voice was low. “It’s you who I’m worried about missing.” Her voice was laced with venom. If he was going to be a dick, then she could be one right back. You better not… really? I know my limits. Who does he think he is? My mother? Before he could respond, she gave one more quick look around the edge of the car and found her targets. If she could take the ones out on the right, she could get the left. So, she turned and worked her way as silently and quickly as she could to the other end of the car. From here, the backs of some of the Reapers were to her. She turned her head and waited silently for his signal.

 

[Atherium]

"Someone here has an attitude." He spoke up in a joking manner, keeping his tone low. The Leapers seemed to have been done with their fresh meal, and from what could be seen, only a pool of blood was left in the spot, along with a few viscous torn pieces of cloth and a weapon. The damn being ate even the bones of the rebel. They must've been hungry. "The core is in their forehead. Aim for that. It's gonna be easier to kill them off that way. Prioritize the targets and you should be fine." He gave the last instructions while he took the time to check his new weapon's ammo. It wasn't exactly satisfying, and he was now forced to not waste anything. They had to get in the hideout. And this was the only way in. He had to attract the creatures somehow.


Yes, a bigger sized pebble should work. Carefully, he picked the first under his hand, and took his aim to the closest of the mutants. "Ready?" He questioned just before the rock was thrown, hitting the beast in the back. Soon, hideous pairs of eyes were turned towards the rolled on side car. No turning back. A deafening screech was let out by a Leaper as the whole group picked up pace, rushing towards the car. Vlad took his aim careful and began the repelling, the weapon firing shot after shot automatically. The bullets swished through thin air and planted themselves in each beast's core, letting them fall to the ground and twitch caught in the grip of death. However. as accurate as his shots were, some were still missing. And it seemed the Leapers were advancing quite quickly.


The sound of the weapon unloading ripped through the hot air as Vlad and Samantha were now fighting and shooting their best to stay alive and sound. " Four, five, six." He counted as his bullets ran out. He knew the exact number and by now, he figured he would run low on ammo. Another leaper fell behind the others when a click was heard. "Fuck, i'm out of ammo!" He announced Samantha as he dropped the big gun to the ground. It was time that he took the fight to himself. Pulling out one of the two 9mm he had sheathed at his sides, he proceeded to rolling out of the cover. "Take out the ones on your side, i'll keep the others busy!" He shouted before dashing in a sprint, attracting the immediate attention of three leapers that quickly followed his movement.


Half turned around from his torso, he took half aimed shots towards the creatures, trying to keep them focused upon himself for as much as possible, to let Samantha work her way with the others. Indeed, his plan wasn't exactly brilliance itself, but his cold blood and his lack of fear of death helped a great matter as he kept pulling the three monsters. One of his shots made its way straight into the forehead of one, and a geiser of blood ejected from within as the beast fell down, while the other two seemed even more eager to catch the man and rip him in half.

 

[FaithWynters]

She shot him a smirk. At least they were getting along a little bit. Besides, it wasn’t the time for fights. Teammates couldn’t fight before a battle. It would weaken their bonds and in fights like these, everything was important. You needed someone that you knew you could turn your back on and trust when you fought.


She looked out on the scene around the car. There was only blood left. They hadn’t left meat or skin. There wasn’t even cloth left from his clothes; Just the blood that they hadn’t been able to lick up into their mouths. When the sustenance was gone, they stopped eating.


"The core is in their forehead. Aim for that. It's gonna be easier to kill them off that way. Prioritize the targets and you should be fine." She didn’t respond. Sam wouldn’t tell him that this wasn’t her first rodeo. She knew that negative thoughts and words wouldn’t help them so she decided to keep to herself. Sam simply nodded and gave him a smile that she hoped said ‘good luck’. She held her breath as she watched him. He picked up a rock and threw it. That was all it took to call them close.


A screech was meant to disorient the target. It was supposed to create that thick buzzing sound in the ears that made one flinch. It wasn’t something Sam had heard in a while, but she didn’t let it stop her. Instead, at the sound of the battle cry, she pushed herself out from behind the car. She wondered for a moment if their fighting styles were too different, but she couldn’t take time to worry. They were in the heat of action and she couldn’t worry about something not working out.


There was another barrel stood up on this side of the car. She knew that she had to draw some of them away from him; he had begun to fire and drew their attention. She kicked the metal over and it made a loud harsh sound as it hit the concrete. Heads jerked toward the sound, and they caught sight of her. She smirked; the adrenaline was pumping. This high is what she looked forward to.


Her double barrel only allowed her two shots at a time, so she had to keep moving. The sound of her gun firing echoed off the nearby walls and sent a shudder through her body. There was no sound from the creature. She had landed her shot and the creature fell with a dull thud on the ground and its blood began to pool.


She cocked the weapon. The other had been standing there for a split second. It had been weighing it’s options before it charged at Sam. She was waiting for it, and she squeeze the trigger. The buckshot ripped through its core and sent it backwards.


Had he said he was out? She hadn’t been listening to what he said. She had been worried about killing the fuckers that seemed to be everywhere. She heard the sound of his pistols, and took a running jump over the hood of a car. She didn’t have much time to reload. Two shells were gripped firmly in her hand when she landed. Out, shove the shells in, back up. Cocked. Ready.


"Save your bullets." Sam’s heart beat against her ears. There were two more and they seemed to be split between chasing after her and chasing after Vladimir. She kicked the barrel again to draw their attention. He was wasting ammo—that was stupid. He just needed to let her deal with it. The metal made another harsh sound and began to roll. They had decided. Both of them were going to go after her as a team. Then, they would have a better chance at getting him. Her jaw tightened. They were fast. They cut to both sides of her. They were going to come at her flanks. Sam knew that she only had one chance. If one of those scythes were able to hit her, they would cut her in two.


She took a few steps back. They ran quickly, and used any cover they could. They were trying to get just on the other side of her vision. Then, she would have to pick which way to turn. The reaper landed on the roof of the car, and Sam could hear it being crushed under its foot. Sam had heard the sound of feet grinding against the pavement. She pulled the weapon up and fired. She knew she didn't have to worry about that one anymore. She knew what they were doing. She rolled backward and turned opposite of the car. There he was. Less than ten feet away, the reaper had its arm pulled back to slice at her skin. It took her only a moment to secure the weapon on her shoulder and pull the trigger.


Another shake went through her body. It was too close. She wasn't sure it would be able to stop itself if she missed. Then, she noticed the way the arms seemed to relax. While it was dead, the body continued forward. She didn’t have time to move. She didn’t get to see if the shot landed to completely kill the creature. She heard it hit something, but the body came slamming into her. She couldn’t stop herself. She fell backward with the heavy body on top of her. Her head hit the pavement hard, and the world got dark.

 

[Atherium]

The last beast fell, and so did Samantha. It would seem she was even crazier than he was, having the guts to pull the creatures off him and attract them towards her. At first, it angered him and he expected her to fall prey. But she seemed to have handled it quite good. He was, in a way, amazed, and it took a moment for him to reel away from the surprise. Sheathing his pistols, he took a few steps towards her, and, eventually, lowered himself. Grabbing the dead body off her, he pushed it away and aside with a sigh. The ground was soaked with blood. Gazing upon the girl, he wondered how long it would take her to snap awake.


"Hey, can you hear me?" He asked as he shook her, trying to awaken her. But she did not respond. His hands caught her in a stronger grip as he tried to awaken her furthermore, but, seeing as it did not have any effect, he eventually gave up. Letting her go, he sat beside her, using the time she was blacked out to take a moment and to rest. Vladimir searched a pocket of his pants and he pulled out an old pack of cigarettes, lighting himself one right away. As he puffed from it, he thought back to the past. How the world has changed in the time.


His thoughts drifted to his initial plan as he took a glance down at the girl lying next to him. There they were, they have reached the base and, as planned to himself, he should be off with her. But why couldn't he bring himself to? He questioned himself, trying in vain to find an answer. It was so simple. He could just pull out the pistol and finish it all, then the goods would remain only for himself to take. He would get back to the normal, lonely days of wandering and surviving, it wasn't really that hard. But again, loneliness was, at times, quite boring. And this girl was not exactly what one would call boring. Her sudden moods and fits could provide enough entertainment, and Vlad suddenly found himself smiling at the thought.


The cigarette ran out pretty quickly, and he was only a little dissapointed about it, but at the same time, he was glad he has been able to make a decision. He would wait for the girl to wake up, so that they may continue their road. Together.

 

[FaithWynters]

For an eternity, there was only darkness and a dull throbbing that she would only feel once she awoke. She felt nothing. She saw nothing. She knew nothing of the man that had decided to stay by her side. No dreams came to her head that might frightened her out of her sleep, so for the longest time she just lay there. She never felt the body being removed from on top of her. She was left at the mercy of the man that sat beside her.


Sam only awoke after a few more minutes of darkness, with a quiet groan. Light flashed in her vision and she clamped her eyes closed again. Everything came back to her in a flash. The mutants, the boy, the large body coming toward her.


“Fuck.” She groaned out quietly, bringing her arms up to pull at her eyes. The throbbing started now, a thick swirl of pain that surrounded her head. Another groan. “Fuck.” She opened her eyes. She might have been able to enjoy the sky’s beauty as it met her eyes, but she was already trying to figure out if she was in danger. It was stupid of her to make a noise, but now as she pulled herself up off of her back, she couldn’t keep from assuming that the man was gone.


There he was. Sam’s face shifted from a squint of pain to utterly surprised. She couldn’t believe it. Her eyes were wide; then she reached back and felt the straps of the pack on her back. He hadn’t even taken anything? She wasn’t sure about that, but for right now, there would be no time to check.


“Thought you would have been long gone by now.” She was smiling. The awe on her face hand washed away. She looked away from him a moment to look at the creature that lay beside her. If it had landed wrong, it’s long arms could have sliced her body to hell and back. She would have been dead. Then, her mind went back to Vladimir. It could have been him that killed her. She could feel the lump forming in her throat. The realization hit her like a brick. She lay on this ground, head screaming for mercy, because he hadn’t put a bullet in her head while she was out. A small smile spread across her lips. She turned back to him.


“Thanks for the help.” She met his eyes only for a moment before she pulled her feet under her, and picked herself up onto wobbly feet. Her head spun and she let out another groan and another curse. When the world finally flattened again, she held out her hand to help him up. She was starting to see it now. Maybe the fog was being cleared just a little, and she was beginning to see that out of anyone out here, he could be trusted more than the rest of them. Before this her trust only extended a little further than walking a man to the safe house of pigs. She was still surprised she wasn’t dead; she couldn’t keep the small smile at bay.

 

[Atherium]

"Don't mention it. You'll be entertaining me along the road." He spoke in a sort of a bitter joke, only then realising how awful he has become at humor. Days before the big invasion, he was making his colleagues laugh with a lot of stupid and silly jokes, but nowadays, he realised how much worse he has gotten at it. Anyhow, he was dragged back from his thoughts and, standing, he looked to her, and again attempted a joke, not so sure how it would actually sound. "So, you gonna stay there the whole day? Let's move." He nodded before, again, turning his back towards her and only signaling with his head which way he was headed. Yet, he kept his pistols at reach, since the ground seemed to be less than friendly. Who knew what beings their whole shootout attracted.


Carefully, he avoided stepping into the pool of blood and shredded clothes that once has been one of the rebels, and he trusted Samantha would do the same. Finally taking his aim with a pistol, in which, honestly, he did not even recall if he had any more bullets at all, he pointed it forward as he prepared to delve in the shadows inside what seemed like an abandoned hangar. Of course, abandoned was not really the correct term, it has been used by these animals before. His gaze caught in its reach two empty eyes, staring at him from beyond death. One of their latest victims. It didn't, however, creep him out, nor did it sicken him. The body lain numb, covered almost fully by shadow, but by the smell, carried through heated air, Vlad could only assume it lain there for quite a few days.


"Don't vomit on me, dolly." He made another joke to the girl that was shifting places, being once next to him, and the next second, slightly behind him. Silence. Not the sound of breathing, nothing. His boot suddenly was placed in a sort of slippery sludge with a very metallic smell. The man knew by now in what he has stepped. The remains of the rebel that died shooting like a maniac, and screaming from the top of his own lungs. Kicking his foot an inch further, he met the resistance of the dead man's weapon, a heavy rifle. Despite the fact that he was going to mess his hands with drying blood, Vladimir sheathed his own pistol, putting it aside in the favor of the bloodstained, and probably still loaded weapon. Better that, than nothing.


He followed in the same silence the way that Samantha has indicated him earlier, easily finding the stairs up as his eyes became used to the strange darkness with sickening reeks. The door of the room they were headed to was now greeting them. The man took a look behind at the girl, signaling that she be prepared for anything as he opened the way. However, as he tried the knob, he quickly was struck by a realization that made his blood boil for a second. The lock was shut, and jammed. On whos orders or what measures, he couldn't know, but damned be he in hell, they've been doing so much only to find a jammed lock? If it would've been locked, it would've been easy, he knew how to lockpick. But this. The only way would be to break the door, but as if some invisible god was hell bent on fucking the couple right in the ass, the door was made of metal. Absolutely fucking perfect.


Vladimir let out a frustrated sigh as he pounded his fist lightly into the door, before turning to Samantha. "Well, seems somebody has been dead set on forbidding us entrance. Any ideas now?"

 

[FaithWynters]

So she was entertainment to him, huh? The soft smile turned into a smirk. Sam couldn’t help it; she rolled her eyes and shook her head. If it had been under anymore circumstances, she may not have seen the attempted—humor in his words. Maybe that’s what they were to each other. Their partnership was so complex that it was hard to pinpoint what exactly they were to each other. Maybe that defined it completely. Entertainment. They would be keeping each other sane while they remained in each other’s company. It wasn’t that they particularly needed it—they had obviously been keeping their distance from humans for quite some times. It was a safety concern to be around someone you weren’t completely secure with, but human contact was an important aspect of a healthy life. Of course, food wasn’t the healthiest anymore, but any attempt to remain mentally sound was a good idea.


"So, you gonna stay there the whole day?” His words tugged her out of her thoughts. They didn’t matter anymore anyway. She just shook her head. Yeah, because they would be standing here right now had she not gotten tackled by something twice her size. Another eye roll—she couldn’t help those. With the smallest jerk of his head he moved toward the building. Their moment was gone. Good, she liked it that way. Without a word, she knelt down and picked up her weapon that had been thrown out of her hand. She looked it over. There was a gash in the wood of the stock that jutted from the deep mahogany-colored grain and onto the metal that turned into a small white line. It would still shoot fine—she hoped—and she worried only about its accuracy. The piece of junk was already hard to work with, but she made it work; she just hoped it would still work.


Sam stepped silently over the area that used to house a body. She would follow in his footsteps to ensure that they weren’t split up and that they didn’t worry about something coming up from behind. She resumed her position as watching their back as he watched their forward. Around the pool of blood they went; she never smelt it anymore. When this first began, the smell of blood might make her stomach curl around it tightly and not release her. It was a metallic hell and her body and mind took its time getting used to the stench.


In through the front doors they marched. Their boots were silenced further at the change in texture under toe, and their gaze was cast in shadow. Samantha smelt the body before the saw it. It was normal for her though. It was the smell of decaying flesh that mixed with the smell of blood to make something already awful even more putrid. Sam was used to this. It was another smell, however, that pulled her eyes away and made her watch the darkness. Sex lingered against the harsh backdrop of metal and dirt scents that seemed to always fill the senses. It was something uncommon for her to smell—for she tended to steer clear of places like this when she could—but somehow her mind could rip the must from all the others. Maybe it was just torture, or maybe it was an instinctual mechanism that tried to steer her clear of the danger; she wasn’t sure if any of those things were true.


"Don't vomit on me, dolly." Sam shot him a look. She wondered for a moment if he could decipher the slight discomfort on her face. It was a dismissed thought; he probably couldn’t even see her features in the dim light of this large room. Instead, her mind fixated on the term he had used. Dolly. It was harmless really, but her mind turned over trying to understand it. Was he trying to compare her to a pin-up doll? Her jaw set. She was much more useful than that. Then, as she looked back toward the ground, she realized that it might just have been a joke; a term of endearment and not objectification. Yeah. A heat had spread across her cheeks, but it was turning from aggravation to embarrassment quickly. The hackles that had begun to rise slowly, as little pinpricks across her skin, lowered. It’s just a joke, Sam. Chill out. He’s just being nice. It was such a foreign idea that she wasn’t sure how she should feel.


She spent a short time regaining her composure and waiting in silence for them to continue on. By the time she had looked back to see why they had stopped, Vladimir had another weapon in his hand. Sam’s eyes trailed down to the thick blackness. Blood. It was another puddle that these mutants had created; she was sure of it. Obviously, that’s where he had found the weapon. It wasn’t great, but it was better than nothing.


It had been a long while since she had spoken. Really, this is how she spent most of her days. She spoke in quiet mutters to herself to keep her mind going and sane. That hardly happened anymore; she had grown accustomed to getting lost in her own thoughts as she walked aimlessly through the streets in search for food. They soon made it to the doorway. Sam turned now to look at the door, and then, she looked down the hallway. It wasn’t long. At the end there was another door, and a few marked the wall to the right. Sunlight shone in through the windows that were on the left side of the hallway. There was a rectangle cut out every few feet. The light was harsh, and made Sam flinch slightly. She turned away to look at the dreary walls and the blood that smeared across them. Carpet—once what appeared to be a tan color—was now a deep brown. Her weapon was at the ready as she turned her attention back to Vlad.


Someone didn’t want them getting inside the room she had been in only a few hours ago. A chill ran up her spine. She remembered how she had left it—how she had left him. His eyes were closed; she had given him that much respect, but his body was mangled and there was blood. Blood everywhere. He deserved it; she knew what he intended on doing to her. Now, they were back to what was happening now. The door was jammed. What would they find on the other side? Had something happened once she was gone? What if there was another mutant inside? Or a human?


Sam looked up at the sound of a harsh fist hitting the metal. Well, there was no mutant. If it had been a mutant, it probably would have come slicing through the door. No… This was something different. She didn’t like the feeling of it though; something was telling her that this might actually be worse than a mutant. She couldn’t think of what might be worse, but the hairs on her arms began to rise at the feeling. There was a stillness, as if the place had been captured by time and never released. A calm before the storm. There were too many of those lately, and usually the storm that broke through was worse than expected.


“I…” She walked past him and toward the door. She reached up with her hand and touched the cool metal with long fingers. This was strange. She wanted to find out what was on the other side of the door, but at the same time, she felt it would be a mistake. “There’s always the fun way.” She shot him a smirk; she could cover her discomfort. It was a good idea, so that he couldn’t see the weakness that came alongside discomfort. Down the short distance of hallway she walked and came to the first window. The glass had long been broken, and even the shards that might have remained were gone. She pointed out the door and across the small space. There was a window about half the width of the room in distance. It was a climb of about twenty feet—not far if one could hold up their body weight.


“I guess this is the way to find out what’s behind the door.” She tried not to think. Instead, she just grabbed the edge of the window and pulled herself out into the breeze. The drop wasn’t a friendly one—they were on the second floor after all—so it would take great care. She let out a quiet grunt as her weight came to rest in her arms and a small amount in the grip she could get on the wall. Sam looked up through the window, a smirk on her lips. “It’s okay if you can’t handle it, Sweetcheeks, I’ll let you in when I get there.” With the slightest of winks, she began making her way toward the room.

 

[Atherium]

"Sweetcheeks?" He replied with a question as he watched her make her way towards the other window. not managing to place the term somewhere. It sounded outworldly and strange. And that only because he lacked human, especially feminine, company for so long, he simply wasn't used to the words any longer. And even more, it was so weird how she turned from the girl that snapped his bitter jokes back at him to a strangely flirtacious one in a matter of moments. But there was, he thought, no time to be thinking about such now, right? He had to stop her from her doing, else she might risk getting pounced at by... whatever lain behind that door. Following her movement, he squeezed his large body out through the window and dropped down, the fall and landing being probably even harsher than hers.


Eventually, he rushed slightly past her, reaching the place under the other window before she did. A curious glance rose up as he now wondered, in all honesty, what the hell was even in there. Did those bastards even bother to take the corpse out? Or maybe they just jammed the lock and let it there to rot and bloat? However, a dreadful sensation in him told him that it was something far worse than just that. Why would one lock a door and jam the lock? To keep something inside, forever, a voice in his own mind responded, and he all but nodded in agreement. Turning to the girl, he spoke in a low tone. "Stay down here until i have a look, alright? Something tells me that room is still being occupied, by someone or well, something. Just wait." Ultimately, he made a sign of 'stop' towards her with his hand before turning back around, and looking at the window again. For his height and weight, a jump and an attempt at grabbing at the windowsill should be easy, right?


However, he slightly doubted it. No. He had to climb his way up, and as no support points were being found, he had to improvise a ladder, or something to bring him higher. A barrel. Yes, a barrel should do. His gaze was cast around the place quickly as he struggled to locate the barrel. And just about the time when he was about to deny the possible existence of such a barrel, there it was, just a bunch of feet away. It was blackened from smoke and inside it lain, as he discovered much to his own disgust, the charred remains of a human being, a skull with two empty orbits that stared through him in an accusing manner. He noticed how the bones had, amongst them, pieces of wire. He already knew what must have happened. "Those damned filthy animals burned this guy, or girl, alive. The wire kept him or her tied and unable to move as she or he stood in this barrel, while the fire consumed their flesh." He spoke out with a cold tone as he pushed down the barrel and eliminating its disgusting content, before taking it away and placing it upside down under the window.


The man then easily climbed upon it, it's true, hoping the metallic container wouldn't give in to his weight. After making sure he was safe upon it, he slowly stood on his toes as he extended his arms, trying to reach the windowsill. The effort he was putting in was a little big, but shortly after, his fingers managed to get a grip, and soon, his strong arms were pulling his body up. The excitement was building slowly within him as he was close to finding out what exactly was behind the window. But what his sight was greeted with made him almost instantly utter a gasp and almost let go off his grip. Yet he found the strenght to remain there, and watch the horror that resided within the room. Long, slimy tendrils were spread across the room, leaving a sticky, slug-like mess. A diformity was inhabiting the messed up bed. It was red, like blood, and it looked as if it was taken from a most horrid nightmare.


From what could be taken as only its underneath, a few tentacles were spread and wrapped about the head of a rotting corpse. Maggots were crawling out of the corpse's mouth, around its swollen tongue that was pointing out from between bloated lips. It much seemed like the horrendous creature was feeding from the corpse while laying on the bed, dormant.


"You fucking have to see this..." He uttered in disbelief as he remained hung under the window.