So many, angry, mad Masters. Dozens of them, in their white coats, with their gaping mouths and trembling paws. Disgusting, filthy, sick humans. Wiinston puts them down as they come, using his two front teeth as pole drivers on their weak, rotten skulls. He doesn't like the taste of them much, and winces with each attack, but they are angry Masters, and they keep trying to hurt him. They are strong, and they are relentless, but he is stronger, and he is more relentless. Two years of confusion, pain and terror, released in a storm of violence.

He holds one up against the wall of the Bad Room, where the Masters would gather to look at Winston through big glass windows. With a snarl, he tears its head from its neck, but not before its teeth latch onto his snout.

"RAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" He picks the head up, and throws it at the glass; it bounces back at him, narrowly misses his face, and smashes against the wall behind like a pumpkin.

There are glowing windows all around. They yell alarms at Winston, they scream at him in tones he cannot understand; his chest thuds quicker, and a pain soon emerges. When he was in his prison, he remembered how the Masters never used the sparky stick on him. The spark stick, they had said, would kill him because of his chest. What was up with his chest? Sparky bad. Glowing screens sparky.

Winston bolted from the room, exiting on the other side.

More lurching Masters were waiting for him. They moaned, and came towards him; he was tired, and a little light headed, but he was also angry. Angry enough to kill a few more Masters.

"RAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!"

Samson sniffed around the debris covering the alleyway, wondering if there was still anything suitable to eat. Everything smelled of rot, just like the odd flatfaces that almost killed him a few days ago. He glanced over at the entrance of the alleyway, where a big orange cat covered with spots sat with his back towards the alleyway, soaking up the last few rays of sun that still decided to shine through, the city in the spotlight.

The little dog went back to his scavenging and risked delving further into the dark, narrow space. He knew that if any threats decided to come his way, the leopard would come happily running to save his life once again. God knows why. Any leopard would be happy to see a little Border Terrier like Samson as a nice snack, since it was hard to find good prey around here nowadays.

"Samsonnnn..."

A low voice boomed from the entrance as the leopard finally spoke, causing the little dog to bolt towards him. Upon arrival, he stood beside him and stuck his nose up in the air, assuming the cat had found something they could eat. "Yes, Kumo, what is it?"

"Rotface," the leopard who calls himself Kumo would reply whilst staring into the opposite alleyway across the roads ahead, where the shadow of a Shambler was faintly seen stumbling around.

Virginia

Things were too loud for Virginia’s sensitive ears. Where were her caretakers? Her cub’s murderers? Her paws set heavily upon red linoleum, a constant sound beneath the screaming, the thud-gallop of others escaping as she was. No—escaping was too strong a word. She was meandering. Already, the red doors of any exits were passing by as she thumped along, nose twitching and pointing her in the direction of something that smelled like a science lab. Behind crisp, half-broken white doors there resided a room entirely coated in a layer of broken glass and lightly smoking chemicals. A few spare rivers of color escaped when she shoved open the door, prompting her to stop and lick them up with a passing swipe.

The burning touched her tongue, familiar, comforting. She grunted through the cacophony only a hallway down, what sounded like the screeching of a rodent and the groans of several of the Gut Tasters. She caught the smell of one of them, an unfamiliar, dead scent like that of old meat, and as she lifted her head from her feast of the lab, several were grunting and shuffling behind her, blocking the doorway. With a flip of her paw, two of them crashed into the other, and the third bit down into the fur at her elbow. She made a moaning grunt of annoyance, leaning down onto her front paws again and biting into the Gut Taster’s head. A disgusting, meaty taste burst into her mouth, and she spit out a wad of scarlet, groaning and shoving the bodies away in disgust before returning to the significantly more important task of slurping up that little puddle of blue stuff.

Jumper

Fear. The lights sat bright, sparking and harming little Jumper’s eyes. He darted from one direction to another, heart racing away, dodging through legs and bodies and corridors. Where was Mother? Hurt? Dead, dead, dead. He skid into stopping before a set of red doors. What did the sign say? E-X-I-T? It was different from the other doors, it had to lead to somewhere away from the ugly humans and scared animals. With a kick, the door swung open, letting him bounce through and out into a narrow hallway. Another set of doors awaited him at the very end, and in seconds his legs pumped a few paces, launching him into icy-frightening noises, open air, darkness. Stricken with a sudden abject horror, he looked into the ceiling. The ceiling! What a room! There were no walls, no ceiling, nothing to keep him in! Where was he? Where were the rooms? Tall, grey-mirror structures greeted his shaking form in the red, smoggy distance like a giant greets a beetle beneath its hoof.

Panting, braying and swiping his tail back and forth, he wobbled forward like a puppet, stopping to lean heavily against a broken hunk of concrete, trying to avoid looking up into the infinite, mottled ceiling. He closed his eyes and thought of Mother. Distant now, crumpled, braying for him to stop where the others would not. He fell to his knees and curled inward, still unstable, muscles and bone, quivering.

Perched high above, resting upon an ancient branch of an old oak tree, two pairs of eyes stared on, soaking in the damnation below.

Watchful and glinting amber eyes, belonging to the larger of the duo, scanned slowly from left to right as long velvety ears turned this way and that, listening for any voices or sounds belonging to anything other than the grunting and shambling of the 'RotFaces' below. Her nose twitched and light tawny brown chest heaved away as she sat and regained her breath. When the shambling dead beneath the tree passed them by, her tense pose eased up. Large, long fore legs bent slowly as she flattened herself out, parallel along the branch. Small fuzzy tail wagged gently, lit up by the golden rays of the sun that snuck past through the foliage above her. Browns, greys, whites and blacks of her flicking short tail thudded softly against her companions longer and wispy black and white tail.

Eyes black as the night, belonging of the smaller of the duo, peered downward at the 'RotFaces' below them. The twisted and broken forms stumbled along the overgrown grass where once upon a time slabs of concrete, uncracked and perfectly square lined the path towards the entrance to their former home; the Labs. A slight pout formed upon her strangely expressive lips as she shook her head. She then sat upright upon her black and white haunches, leaning against the powerful hind quarters of her tawny companion. Small forpaws washed themselves over and over in a fit of nervousness and stomach-churning tension. She licked her lips before she turned her small narrow muzzle towards her larger companion. After a deep breath and a release of a small and shaky sigh, she finally spoke.

"Tia..." upon all fours now, the spotted skunk sauntered over to place her self face to face with the brown hare. The hare, Tia, regarded her companion with a look as if she had an eyebrow raised. Another calming breath from the skunk before speaking again, "I'm sorry, okay...? I'm sorry I dropped it, Tia... I mean, that was our main way of communicating... now it's down there... probably some RotFace is using it to make text to another... wow. Just look at this place. Sooooo not what StreetView showed us right...? Hecks yup. Hahah."

Although just spoken in shushed tone, the voice of the skunk, Gabby as she was known, still sounded like a squishy toy. Not many enjoyed the sound of her voice even though she was but only one of a select few that could speak like a human keeper, but Tia enjoyed it. She was used to it; they were friends since they were tiny captives. But as of now a hardened look welled up in those amber eyes.

Gabby looked away and began wringing her fore paws again and braced herself for a powerful kick from Tia, a kick powerful enough to send her flying into the wall of the next building over. She winced and black eyes were lost in her scrunched face when the hare kicked her.

No. Not kicked. Licked. Softly and tenderly, the bunny licked the cheeks and snout of the smaller and shaken skunk. Gabby slowly opened her dark eyes with pleasant surprise in light of Tia's reaction to what Gabby had lost; their smartphone.

That smartphone was their guide out here. It had GPS, maps, a data plan and Facebook app ready to quick launch on the home screen! But most importantly, it had a stylus that Tia used to type out messages for Gabby and others to read. And during their latest escape from the faster and more dangerous sprinting "Rotfaces," Gabby had dropped it. And so here they were. Up a tree. Plotting what to do next. Looking for any other animal survivor escapee from the 'LabHouses.'

"Y-you forgive me...?" said an astonished Gabby as she was nuzzled by her bigger bunny companion, "you're not angry, Tia...?"

Tia made a eye-rolling motion and wavered her head before shaking it. She then hastily tapped with her claws upon the bark. It was the language both skunk and hare were taught in the 'LabHouses.'

Morse code.

<<No. It okay. Fine, Gabby. No big f'n deal. We find another. G81 (Gabby) good. T14 (Tia) good. Love ya, girl.>>

"Awwww... Tia," the skunk's black and white form nuzzled up warmly and enthusiastically against the bunny's tawny one, "I'll getcha' a new one, okay? I swears it. I will...!"

<<All good. We find new phone. But first find food. Water. LabHouse friends. T14 thinks-->>

The bunny's ears shot bolt upright and froze in position.

"Tia... what--"

<<Hush>> very slowly yet very deliberately, Tia rose to all fours, <<Get on, G81. Now. We move!>>

Without hesitation, Gabby scrambled up onto the back of her bestest bud and clawed on for dear life. When Tia said they were going to move, she meant it; the bunny launched like a rocket. Normally climbing down would be arduous and tedious at best, but the bunny was on a mission as of now. No climbing. Only leaping. A quick and tight whirring sound emitted out from Tia's hindquarters and the next thing Gabby knew they were flying though the air.

They landed upon the head of a RotFace, and as powerful bionic legs pushed off, springing them away, the RotFace found itself decapitated. The duo continued on, Gabby holding on tight as Tia bounded from shoulder to shoulder of RotFace to RotFace, dropping them like bowling pins as they broke Tia's fall. When she finally landed upon solid ground, she paused momentarily to stamp once and wait for Gabby's reply.

"YeahI'mOkay!" blurted out Gabby. Tia hastily pounded out a word upon the concrete and Gabby gasped. But before the skunk could say anything, Tia blasted off. They were a a jagged bolt of tawny black and white lightning, darting in, out and around shambling feet and attacking limbs of the restless dead, racing to meet their target.

The Lab workers had joked whenever the three of them were put together. They had all laughed and thought it was cute. The Lab workers had called it 'Disney-Time.' And that is exactly what Tia had tapped out in Morse Code. Gabby knew exactly who Tia spotted and was sprinting to meet, no questions asked. There was no need to question what her friend saw for Gabby trusted Tia's wonderfully keen eyes.

"Jumper! Hey, Jumper!!! It's me, Gabby! And Tia! Hold tight, okay? Were a'comin'!!!"

A bunny. A skunk. A young deer.

Hecks yup. Disney-Time.

Winston approached the door at the end of the walkway. Dead Angry Masters littered the area behind him; some stirring with broken bodies. They moaned angrily, but Winston didn't care, they got what they deserved. The door wouldn't open, and he pushed it a few times to try and force it.

"Ra-rae?"

A little box, the size of a piece of A4 paper was affixed to the wall besides the door. It had a large blue square in its centre, and out of curiosity Winston put a palm on it. Immediately bright lights started flashing, and a hidden Master started yelling at him.

"ID not recognised, remain where you are, security personnel have been called," it had shouted.

Winston didn't know what he'd done, but he knew the Blue Masters were bad men. They carried objects that caused Winston great pain, and they made loud noises. He looked around for an escape but there was only one way out - the way he had come. Carefully, he started stalking forwards, eyes darting around this way and that. As he reached the end of the corridor, and entered the Bad Room again, he was relieved to see that no one was there. Just more dead Angry Masters.

He had put his palm against the screen, thinking it was some kind of button, but now he realised that perhaps it did not recognise his paw. This gave the overgrown and extremely pissed off hamster a grand idea, and within seconds, he had torn an appendage from one of the many dead Masters. Taking it back down towards the locked door, he noted the alarms had stopped, and there were still no sign of the Blue Masters.

Not wasting any time, he shoved the appendage against the square, repeatedly. The little box lit up with a green glow.

"ID Recognised, welcome Dr. John Martin. I hope you are having a wonderful day," the hidden Master's voice said. The door opened in short order.

Stepping in, Winston suddenly felt a great pang of something awful. Something that sunk low in his gut, making him sad? Is that what they called it? For there was one of his kind, strapped to a big metal table, with its insides all torn out. There were screens, and bright lights, all flickering information at him that he did not understand. He walked over to his fallen comrade, and sniffed the remains.

Fear. Terror. Anguish

"RAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" He screamed, punching anything and everything next to him.

Something moved in the corner of his eye, and before he had time to react, an Angry Master had jumped on him. It was strong, much stronger than the other Angry Masters, and Winston found himself tumbling onto the ground with a pair of teeth clenched to his fury neck in a vice like grip. He fought back, raking his claws up and down the Angry Master's back, sending black blood and torn clothes into the air like confetti.

Virginia

The screeching was growing outside the room she was in, and in a drugged haze she turned, her maw dripping with chemicals, little strings of venomous drool shivering with her breath. A few of the humans—nonhumans? Gut Tasters? They were running off, warping around a corner, crawling and limping for other prey. A heavy paw crashed down upon one of their backs, Virginia stepping on it on her way out of the room. It was delicious in there, a fountain of flavor, and she was loathe to leave, but by the looks of things all of the other subjects were leaving. Where? Was there some cornucopia of metal and acid and fumes, somewhere they were racing to eat at while she dawdled about some little room of glass? Her snout scrunched up at the thought, and with a vicious tamping of basketball-sized paws, she was making her way for an exit. The door caved in under her sheer weight, lurching forward and making her enormous bulk tumble through. She breathed in the taste of smoke in the air and grunted deeply, licking at the sky as if she could bite out swaths of the black clouds.

Jumper

The dark ceiling bore down on him like a blanket of spiders. He jolted and cried out at the sudden sight of several shambling creatures that wandered past him, jumping to his hooves before a few of them were summarily pelted with a high-energy ball of black and white. He danced away the swinging arms of one of them, screeching and kicking its kneecaps hard enough to make it fold in on itself on the ground, writhing and only ceasing its movement when he planted his hooves desperately upon its head and hopped up and down for what felt like a hundred times.

He shook, stepping away just in time for a familiar tapping to ring out over the terrifying noise. He bent to meet the little rabbit he had known sparingly before, along with her skunk friend. They, along with Mother, had managed to teach him a little bit of their pitter-language when they’d been together, somehow, and with sparing nuance and a hesitating hoof he managed to respond. “T…think yov.” He swept his tail and glanced around. “Mo…mmi gone.”

Samson whimpered quietly and darted behind his feline guardian for protection. The Shambler hadn't spotted them yet, but it wouldn't be long before that statement would be false. The little dog gently wrapped his tiny fangs around the leopard's back leg and tried to pull him away, though failed, of course. "Kumo, we can't afford a fight right now. We need food."

"Rotface is slow, dog," the big cat grumbled and sat back on his haunches, nearly crushing the terrier under his bum. Samson wiggled out in time to avoid this and snorted at the feline, who was young, dumb, and stubborn. "Well, it's slow, but if we cause a ruckus there will be more. The fast ones will come, and we will be mince meat." the dog would pull on Kumo's tail to grab his attention, noticing that the Shambler was slowly making his way out of the alley and into the sunlight. It still failed to notice the two animals, for a time.

Kumo frowned and growled lowly at Samson before standing up and retreating into the shadows with him.

(crappy post, kinda busy)