ᄂӨΛDIПG DΛƬΛ FIᄂΣƧ...
ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴜᴛꜱᴋɪʀᴛꜱ, ɴᴇᴡ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ, 8056 ɴᴀᴍᴇ: ᴇʟᴅᴏ, ᴠᴀʟᴇꜱᴋᴀ ᴀɢᴇ: 17 ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴇꜱ: ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ɴᴀᴍᴇ: ʜᴀʀᴛ, ʀᴏᴍᴀᴇᴏ ᴀɢᴇ: 18 ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴇꜱ: ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ
ɴᴀᴍᴇ: ᴡɪʟᴋɪɴꜱ, ᴄʟʏᴛɪᴇ ᴀɢᴇ: 16 ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴇꜱ: ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ɴᴀᴍᴇ: Qᴜᴇɴɢ, ᴄʏꜱ ᴀɢᴇ: ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴇꜱ: ꜰᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴍᴇɴᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇ: ꜱᴏʟᴇɴᴛ, ᴋᴀᴢ ᴀɢᴇ: 17 ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴇꜱ: ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ
ฬєɭς๏๓є Շ๏ Շђє คק๏ςคɭץקรє PΛЯƬ 1
ᴠᴀʟᴇꜱᴋᴀ'ꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ I know it is morning because it has gotten a little lighter. The sun is hiding behind thick, dense clouds and is no more than a faint speck in the sky. I arouse, blockheaded and weary, from my sleep. I am in a dark, silent building with crumbling walls and few windows. The world outside is empty. Abandoned.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I get up and stretch my legs. But not before hoisting my rifle onto my back. You never know when there'll be another Darkman attack. As I walk, I listen to the sound of my own footsteps, echoing on the cold, stone floor. The sound of my heart beating faster at the thought of a Darkman just round the corner. The sound of my heavy, nervous breathing.
I come to the conclusion that the building is still empty and I head back to my little corner. But I can't stay here forever, cooped up in a dank building, slowly going through my limited supplies. There has to be someone else out there. I can't be the only human left. Can I?
I grab my pack and head out to building into the dry, desolate land before me. The Darkmen didn't usually attack in daytime but you never know. I double check my knife in my belt and my rifle slung over my shoulder.
I immediately miss the cold, damp building. I'd rather be anywhere but out here in this roasting, dusty, crumbling city. Apart from a Darkmen lair, perhaps.
Before I drown in my own sweat, I head South in hope to find some sort of human civilisation.
ʀᴏᴍᴀᴇᴏ'ꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ I groan and put my head in my hands. I have no idea how long I've been stuck in this stupid desert world, but when you're stuck with Clytie, it feels like forever.
"It's just a boring spider," I tell her plainly. Clytie ignores me and carefully picks it up. "It's the first sign of life I've seen since..." She trails off but I already know what she was going to say. Since her parents were killed in a Darkmen attack. I just wish she would get over it. Surprise, surprise. My parents were killed too.
"Aren't I alive?" I question her. "Arent the Darkmen alive?" Clytie shivers, despite the scorching weather. "Yes," she admits. "You are alive. But I don't think the Darkmen are." "Oh, let's not get philosophical," I rub my eyes wearily. "My head won't be able to handle it."
Clytie laughs, even though it wasn't a joke and gets back to prodding the spider. I take the time to scout round our camp. I'm always on tenterhooks for a Darkman attack to happen. Despite the heavy, comforting weight of my rifle and the small pen knife hidden in my boot, I can never feel relaxed enough. Sometimes I wish I had Clytie's calm demeanour.
ᴋᴀᴢ'ꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ Blood rushes through my veins as I swing my rifle round to get a better shot. My breathing comes out in ragged fits and starts. My eyes scan the seemingly empty landscape beyond. Where are they? I know they're here. I saw one of them sneaking around in the shadows of the abandoned warehouse. I killed it, of course.
Everyone knows the Darkmen don't travel alone. So where are the others? Suddenly, a claw slashes through my shirt sleeve, leaving a bloody tear in my skin. I grit my teeth and swing the rifle round wildly. The metal comes into contact with something fleshy. I widen my eyes as a Darkman lunges for me, its pale arms outstretched.
I swing my rifle wildly. The Darkman is too close so I'm unable to shoot it. It winces when my rifle hits it. But it doesn't stop. I frantically scan my eyes around for an escape. Then I realize that I'm completely surrounded by Darkmen. They were waiting to catch me unaware. The thought hit me like an electric shock. These things are more clever than I thought.
The Darkmen are closing in fast, wisps of shadows enveloping me as they advance, and I still don't have a plan. Typical. Why does this keep happening to me?
A Darkman lashes out a bony, claw-like hand and pain shoots through my leg. Why my leg? I need to walk with that! Suddenly, my rifle is yanked from my hands by another Darkman. Great. Now I'm defenseless.
As the Darkmen close in, I feel the life beginning to drain from me. They're stealing my energy. Soon I'll turn into one of them; pale and bony, and dressed in black rags, with deep, empty eye sockets. This is not how I imagined my life to go.
Suddenly, I see a bright burst of violet light. I shield my eyes, despite how badly I want to see what the hell just happened. The Darkmen scatter and the ones who are hit by the bolt of light crumple to the ground in a pile of ashes and flesh. I feel bile rising in my throat.
A hooded figure approaches me and I back away, thinking it's a Darkman. But instead of engulfing me in darkness, the figure bends over and whispers soothing words in my ear. I lie there, completely confused. And then, overwhelmed by all this, I do something I rarely ever do. I faint.
ᴄʏꜱ' ᴘᴏᴠ I couldn't help it. A fire had lit up inside me when I saw the Darkmen close in on that young, vulnerable boy. I promised myself I would never use my power ever again, as it was too dangerous and uncontrollable, but I couldn't let that boy die. I still have a heart, you know.
He's handsome too; (handsomely) shaggy chestnut hair, glittering emerald eyes, filled with wit, and pale skin, streaked with blood and mud. His shirt sleeve is torn, as well as one of his trouser legs. Blood is gushing from his wounds like a crimson waterfall.
I cradle him in my arms and gently carry him to my camp. I'm over the moon to finally find another life form in this dry, parched world. But I'm aware he'll need answers when he wakes up. I tend to his wounds and try not to shiver when my fingers brush against his smooth skin. I really shouldn't be doing this. I try not to touch him too much.
It's almost dusk when the boy stirs. I'm preparing some dried meat and vegetables for the boy when he wakes up. I haven't been hungry in a long time but I know he will. The boy's eyes flutter open and he tries to twist round. He winces when he presses hard on his wounded arm.
"Hello," I say softly. The boy startles and stares at me with those dreamy green eyes of his. "Who are you?" he demands shakily. "My name is Cys," I answer gently and slowly edge towards him. The boy lets me.
He swallows. "Um, hi. I'm Kaz. Sorry, I'm not usually like this. I'm just extremely confused." I knew this would come soon. The questions. But I suppose he deserves answers. "I'm a Failed Experiment," I explain. "The last of my kind, as far as I'm aware." Kaz looks at me sadly and I'm grateful for his sympathy.
"That explains the big purple flash," Kaz realizes. I nod nervously. Kaz tries to move again but grimaces and flops back down. "It always annoys me when this happens," he grumbles and I can't help but laugh. Maybe there's hope after all.