https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYSVMgRr6pwThe moans of the near dead echoed around the desiccated building. It used to be a finance office, probably, it's dull grey walls were painted in vibrant shades and hues, layers upon layers of graffiti over each other until it was but a chaotic swirl of colour and discontent. The windows had long since been smashed out, empty hollow sockets of some great, many eyed beast which glowered upon the people below with disgust at what their lives had become. Its large double doors, a mesh of metal and glass stood snarling at the decay that threatened to encroach upon it's stone steps. Weedy vines and scraggly plants attacked the breaks in stonework, green grasping fingers that sought to throttle the life out of the decayed building. All around it swayed the one thing that didn't really belong in the iconic picture, people. Well, what was left of people, their skin was mottled green, their eyes glazed over, arms limp or incredibly rigid and taut. They were alive, or, it could be assumed they were, their breath condensed briefly in a chill gust of wind.
A scent must have followed for all noses turned this way and that, sniffing, hissing, a growl and then two of the living dead turned on one another, pounced, there was a fervent moment where madness descended on the herd and then it settled. The outer fringes calmed, the two trouble makers released one another as if they had not just been interlocked in a death dance. Like when a snake struck out, thinking it had found food, only to grasp its own tail. It was as if they were waiting, perhaps they were waiting, for death, life, for a chance, for rebirth, for love, for escape? A thousand poets could have spun a thousand tales and yet none would truly capture that lost desperation one could feel when in the presence of the
infected.
Toxin territory was a lot like this, broken but beautiful, alive but festering, it was a hard place to describe easily. It was like the air was purer, freer and yet there was a smog that clutched at the ankles, somethign that drew you, grounded you, made you
feel more. Perhaps that was the toxins though, the fire that ran through the blood, that made it hard to think and see and be and yet blew the mind wide open. The thing that reduced the weak into nothing but a shambling wreck but turned the strong into the very fist of Gaia. Dead but alive, free but chained, tethered but skybound, sane and mad and beautiful and
terrible all at once.
A silence descended upon the rabble, a stillness that was electric with anticipation, every one of the rabble seemed to hold their breath, their skin shuddering with expectation. Then there it was, shrill and pure in the still air, a scream, a scream of terror and inevitability.
Like blood hounds there was a stir in the shambling beasts, they righted their gnarled bodies and honed in the direction of the sound. For a split second it was that pure stillness, the feeling before lightning struck, before the wave hit, before the mountains quaked. For a split second all of time had stopped in its tracks, paying homage to the prey, and it was beautiful. Then, as the lightning and the mountain and the wave, the destructive force was activated. In a mighty blob the half-life creatures burst into action. The lean ones were bounding and hurdling and running and snarling like whippets out of the fence, the larger ones were sprinting like great machines, grunting with the effort, the even larger ones shambled at the pace they could manage, shaking the concrete beneath their feet. They moved with the precision of a pod of Orca, shifting like fish in a shoal, changing and clambering.
She was young, not so young mind, but young enough to be sport. Jet black hair in a bob and nike trainers, a spilled shopping bag, the stolen tins and packets falling across the pavement. One glimpse, just one glimpse had sent horror into her spine, the fine hairs on her body standing on end and a feeling like a rock in her gut had finally over run the hunger she'd felt. She hadn't meant to scream but she had and now she had to pay the consequences. She was a good runner though, it's why she'd been set to get the food today, their group all had strengths and weaknesses and with the toxins moving through this part of town it had only made sense they'd sent her. Of course, now she wondered if they shouldn't have sent someone else instead.
There was nothing, the streets were bare, the buildings...who knew if they were locked or not and when had that really stopped the infected horde? Then she saw it, like a beacon, a car, its door ajar. She just had to get there before the infected round the corner. Her muscles burned, her lungs hurt but she pushed herself harder, she sped up, pulled away. She threw a trash can in their way, the noise distracting the front ones long enough for her to accelerate. Leaping into the front seat and fighting every urge to slam the door shut behind her. She slipped slowly into the foot well and carefully and slowly pulled the door closed. Had she been quick enough? Had they seen? Had she managed to get away?
Outside the car the horde descended, the quick were up on the roof, scrambling like monkey's, covering the doors, the sunroof, the windows, pulling at the edges of the glass and howling, laughing, like wild animals. The bigger ones came, they grabbed the car, they shook it, snarling, chattering teeth and attempting to knock the car off its wheels. Then came the shambling masses, the giant balls of muscle and mass. They bellowed like a bull and charged at the car, fisting hands together like a bludgeon and bringing them down on the bonnet, the windscreen. The glass held but it splintered, this seemed to annoy the mass and their attack continued.
In the footwell she sobbed quietly into her hands, holding her breath, closing her eyes, balling up as small as she possibly could. She was knocked around by the rocking, she couldn't see the light thanks to the fast ones, it was like being buried alive and it was all she could do not to scream and hyperventilate.
seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours and then, after what felt like days later, it all stopped. The car stopped shaking, the light returned, the snarling and howling and grunting gave way to silence. She couldn't quite believe it and for the longest moment she stayed put, unsure what to do. Lifting her head a little she saw how close the windows had been to smashing, the twisted metal, the broken windscreen wipers and side mirrors but she saw no sign of the infected. She waited, quietly, patiently and then, slowly with a curiosity uncontrollable she unlocked the door. Wincing at how loud it seemed to echo in the silence, she waited, nothing, not even a sound.
She popped the door and again she waited, again there was nothing. Had they moved on? Found someone else? It didn't matter, she threw open the door and clambered out. The door slammed firmly behind her, grinning like a Cheshire cat was one of the fast ones, perched on the roof. She whirled around, ready to sprint and came face to face with a girl, no, a woman.
Amala lifted a finger, long nail of her index finger dragged carefully and slowly up the woman's throat, "So close." Came the gentle purr that was Amala's tone -it had been a while since she'd heard her own voice-. Around her the infected were sat like dogs bought to heel, still, obedient, waiting. Oh they wanted their fun, sure, but they knew better than to try anything now, Amala didn't share. Amala's toxic eyes were reflected in the brown hue of the girl before her, hair a pastel wave of green with shards of crystal that flecked and caught the grey light like a prism. She could see in those eyes the desire to run, the girl was still scanning for escape routes and trying very hard to not soil herself. "Of course...they work on smell, not sight darling." She cooed, moving her finger away from the girls chin.
As expected the girl bolted, the horde grew restless but with a look from their leader they stilled once again. Astral liked this bit, she rolled her wrist in a practised manner, smooth movements that allowed a venomous green crystal to spill over her hand like water, solidifying in her palm, coiling like a great snake within her hand.
The girl thought she was free, they weren't following, the leader seemed almost hypnotised, she was going to survive, she was going to be free!
CRACK!The whip coiled about the innocent throat like a snakes jaws around it's prey, it coiled tight and while the girl bought up her hands to stop the choking effect it was too late for her. The horde behind her whooped and hollered and screeched with joy.
Amala jerked back her arm, watched the girl flounder uselessly, fall on her back, grunt, and struggle but the green was already seeping into the skin. Sometimes it didn't feel right to do this to people, a flash of memory haunted her at these times, a man smiled at her over a cup of coffee, she shook her head lightly and yanked harder on the whip, dragging the woman closer. The horde grew wild, they beat the floor, their chests, they jumped, they hollered and screamed. Amala smiled, a half smile as toxic as her eyes. Sometimes it bothered her but this was life now, this was how she cured the itch in her veins, the fire in her nerves, this was how she felt
good again.
