Five years have passed since a virus outbreak changed the world. It started slow, maintained in strongholds ran by government forces as they tried to keep the virus at bay, but these places were ran by humans who did what all humans do. They made mistakes and the virus along with those infected broke free from the strongholds, beginning the mass spread of the disease that led to the downfall of each country.
It was coined the degenerative virus. Those who contracted it did exactly as expected, degenerated until they finally succumbed to it, some quicker than others. Even after their bodies shut down from the virus, it was as if something took over them, leading them to target the remaining healthy people that were still alive. It was spread through bodily fluids such as spit, blood, mucus, and more. A simple scrape could mean someone’s death if they didn’t take care when dealing with the infected.
Once the virus broke free, it did not take long for cities to be overran, for local, state, and even federal governments to fall, and for people to turn on each other. There were rumors of army bases converted to safe havens, though they were nearly impossible to get into for fear of the virus. Most people survived in packs, loyalties that were formed at the beginning of the outbreak. These packs claimed entire towns typically, sometimes taking out others just to keep their territory.
Vivienne Edwards had once belonged to a pack, one named The Honorless. She had been 17 when the outbreak happened and had joined the group before it had earned its named. After 3 continuous years of violence and depravity, the woman could no longer bear it. She fled the group in the early hours one morning, not daring to look back for fear of being caught. It was an unspoken rule that you didn’t leave your pack, but one she was willing to break so she would no longer have to add more unnecessary blood to her hands.
Two years after her escape, Vivienne scavenged between towns, never stopping to stay in one place for more than a few days. The now 23 year old quietly crept through what seemed to be an abandoned town, but she knew there were eyes lurking on the rooftops of the buildings around her. She never dared to go too far inside of a town, knowing the closer to the center meant the bigger risk of being caught by those that ran the towns or cities they claimed, not to mention the infected that flocked to populated areas.
Vivienne was slight and quick on her feet, having learned to be in the harshness of this new world. She wore long sleeves and thick pants no matter the weather, not wanting to risk any chance of being infected through an unknown wound. The skin she did show had tanned over the years of being outside scavenging. Her once long brown hair was cut just above her shoulders now and typically pulled into a ponytail to minimize the risk of it becoming caught in anything or used against her in a fight. Her eyes were the same shade as her hair and often betrayed her thoughts, much to her chagrin.
The woman was armed with a pistol strapped to her thigh that was not often used since she never wanted to attract attention to herself and a machete that hung from her belt when not in use. It was nearing nightfall when she slipped into a small abandoned church through a broken window, avoiding doors since the sounds of them opening and closing would alert anyone near her to her position. She quietly crept through the hall leading to what would have been the sanctuary, listening out for the sounds of anyone else in the building in case she needed to make a run for it.
It was a small building, only one story with two hallways on either side of the sanctuary. It did not take her long to clear it, not seeing any recent signs of life in any rooms that she checked. When she finished her investigation of the building, she made her way into the sanctuary and walked to the middle pews, sitting down once she was satisfied with where she was staying for the night. She settled her bag at the end of the pew and laid down, her head resting on it.
She wouldn’t call what she did sleeping, more so laying there with her eyes closed, her body still on high alert for any noises around her. Time passed slowly that way, but Vivienne could not remember the last time she had actually gotten the chance to sleep fully, never feeling safe enough to do so.
It was coined the degenerative virus. Those who contracted it did exactly as expected, degenerated until they finally succumbed to it, some quicker than others. Even after their bodies shut down from the virus, it was as if something took over them, leading them to target the remaining healthy people that were still alive. It was spread through bodily fluids such as spit, blood, mucus, and more. A simple scrape could mean someone’s death if they didn’t take care when dealing with the infected.
Once the virus broke free, it did not take long for cities to be overran, for local, state, and even federal governments to fall, and for people to turn on each other. There were rumors of army bases converted to safe havens, though they were nearly impossible to get into for fear of the virus. Most people survived in packs, loyalties that were formed at the beginning of the outbreak. These packs claimed entire towns typically, sometimes taking out others just to keep their territory.
Vivienne Edwards had once belonged to a pack, one named The Honorless. She had been 17 when the outbreak happened and had joined the group before it had earned its named. After 3 continuous years of violence and depravity, the woman could no longer bear it. She fled the group in the early hours one morning, not daring to look back for fear of being caught. It was an unspoken rule that you didn’t leave your pack, but one she was willing to break so she would no longer have to add more unnecessary blood to her hands.
Two years after her escape, Vivienne scavenged between towns, never stopping to stay in one place for more than a few days. The now 23 year old quietly crept through what seemed to be an abandoned town, but she knew there were eyes lurking on the rooftops of the buildings around her. She never dared to go too far inside of a town, knowing the closer to the center meant the bigger risk of being caught by those that ran the towns or cities they claimed, not to mention the infected that flocked to populated areas.
Vivienne was slight and quick on her feet, having learned to be in the harshness of this new world. She wore long sleeves and thick pants no matter the weather, not wanting to risk any chance of being infected through an unknown wound. The skin she did show had tanned over the years of being outside scavenging. Her once long brown hair was cut just above her shoulders now and typically pulled into a ponytail to minimize the risk of it becoming caught in anything or used against her in a fight. Her eyes were the same shade as her hair and often betrayed her thoughts, much to her chagrin.
The woman was armed with a pistol strapped to her thigh that was not often used since she never wanted to attract attention to herself and a machete that hung from her belt when not in use. It was nearing nightfall when she slipped into a small abandoned church through a broken window, avoiding doors since the sounds of them opening and closing would alert anyone near her to her position. She quietly crept through the hall leading to what would have been the sanctuary, listening out for the sounds of anyone else in the building in case she needed to make a run for it.
It was a small building, only one story with two hallways on either side of the sanctuary. It did not take her long to clear it, not seeing any recent signs of life in any rooms that she checked. When she finished her investigation of the building, she made her way into the sanctuary and walked to the middle pews, sitting down once she was satisfied with where she was staying for the night. She settled her bag at the end of the pew and laid down, her head resting on it.
She wouldn’t call what she did sleeping, more so laying there with her eyes closed, her body still on high alert for any noises around her. Time passed slowly that way, but Vivienne could not remember the last time she had actually gotten the chance to sleep fully, never feeling safe enough to do so.