Revival of the Dead

A young man wanders the remains of Fort Harbinger in the early daylight hours, scavenging for supplies in one of the areas that faced the least amount of destruction - the suburban housing section near one of the small towns bordering what used to be a military base. A tattered leather trench-coat is wrapped around his black flack-jacket and draped to the ground past his dark cargo pants, and he moves quickly, without a sound, leaving no traces behind. He swiftly makes his way across barren city streets cluttered with old scrap, junk cars, debris, and decrepit buildings, looking for something or someone.

Off in the distance he would see the shadow of a person with some kind of rope wrapped around the neck of another. With a quick cracking sound the shadow broke the neck of the other and quickly reacted to the following hordes of shadows approaching her. Spinning while swinging the whip gracefully around her, she killed many with ease. It would look to him to be more of a dance than a fighting style.

As he made his way to a better vantage point, the man watched silently behind a rotten wooden fence lined in front of an old, ruined home across the street. He watched the girl closely, very interested in her unique fighting style - he considered offering her some help against her enemies, but he wasn't sure that he could trust her even if she was a survivor. Besides, she seemed quite capable of handling herself for now.

When he got closer he would see that those attacking her were humans showing signs of decomposition. Their bodies were worn and one could see blood congealed on their wounds. Their skin pale, some flesh seemed to be rotting off their bones. He would notice that she only aimed for their heads, severing their necks from their bodies. She slowly grew tired as more corpses approached her. They were like an unending army surrounding their enemy. She quickly cut through a small portion of them to escape the cage they has created. She ran through them and searched for cover until they had lost interest in her and found new prey.

The man saw that the woman fighting against the vicious, decomposing zombie-like creatures was being overpowered, so he decided to help. He drew two automatic handguns as he stepped out from behind his cover in full view, emptying clips into the horde of creatures that were starting to close in on her. Most of his shots hit them in their faces, cleanly in between the eyes, but he pelted them with bullets until he had a clean shot and cleared most of them out. As he moved in closer, he drew the attention away from her and onto himself, even as more of them approached.

"Looks like you need a hand. Want some back-up?"

"Thanks but no thanks. I have no need of your help," she said as she stopped for a moment. She closed her eyes as a glyph appeared under her feet. The glyph upset the air and blow it around as a black aura began to flow into her body. The black and purple wind like aura seemed to swallow her completely. From the black cloud of twisting wind came a glowing whip that killed the undead creatures when it touched them. When the dust settled he would see her fall to the ground, completely exhausted from the power she had used.

A few of the remaining undead creatures sprinted towards the girl after she fell, prepared to swarm her and rip her apart. The man rushed over before they could reach her, blasting rounds into them until they came into point-blank range. He had no time to reload, so he switched from his pistols to hand-to-hand combat. His fighting style was quick and effective; he delivered a constant series of powerful punches and jabs to drive the zombies away from her.

He raised his right arm, and although it was mostly covered by his sleeve, his skin seemed to form a twisted, red pattern of metallic ridges all the way up towards his hand. They appeared to have formed like blades, as if his fist was suddenly covered in razor-sharp, mutant deformities. He moves quickly, slashing into the remaining zombies, aiming for their faces and throats. His melee attacks sever and gash into the creatures, slicing them up quickly and leaving them mangled on the ground. Once the last of them were finished off, he knelt down next to the girl to see if she was alright.

"Are you hurt? Close call, there..."

He offered her a hand to help her up - a normal, human hand - and it seemed as if the transformation that the man just went through never happened at all, aside from a few minor cuts and scars on his bloodied arm.

She would push his hand aside as she got up from the ground.

"I guess you could say that. You yourself are a strange one...or should I say your arm is. That aside, it is not safe here, come, we must find some cover. More will follow the sound of your gunshots," she said as she started to briskly walk toward a ruined house that looked to be reinforced with some metal.

"Well, nice to meet you, too..."

He followed her, more out of a sense of curiousity about who she was and why she was here, than a fear for his own safety. He watched behind them intently, expecting more of the creatures to follow them.

"Is this your place?"

She would quickly check the area inside before shutting the door. Once the door shut only shafts of light shown through the damaged roof and cracks in the wall. She would position herself under one of the shaft and speak softly, in order not to draw attention to their whereabouts.

"If that is what you want to call it. I didn't live on this continent before the Cataclysm. Stay here for a minute. Try to stay quiet, they respond to sounds more than any other humanly senses."

She would disappear into the darkness for a moment and return with some water and supplies.

He nodded, staying quiet. He reloaded and slid new clips into his handguns while he waited for her to return, looking around and examining the room for any interesting details.

He would see little in the building, only a few medical supplies and the tattered walls the kept the undead from entering. There were few rooms that weren't boarded over or cut off by rubble. When she returned she would offer him some water and a choice of a small variety of food supplies. She had some canned meats and soups along with a can of nuts and a rather small box of crackers.

"This is all I can offer you at the moment. Pick what appeals to you.." she would be interrupted by the screams of another survivor trying to escape the grasp of the undead. Their efforts would be in vain, as when she moved a loose board to see if she could help, they bit him. He ran up to the building screaming for their help.

"LET ME IN, I SAW YOU GO IN THERE AND I KNOW YOU'RE THERE. PLEASE HELP ME!"

She would coldly turn her back to the door and bite her lip as she ignored his cries for help.

The young man shook his head and sighed. He knew that there was nothing they could do, and it wasn't worth the risk to try and help the survivor outside anyway. He tried to ignore the man's pleas.

"The soup looks good, actually." He took a sip of water. "Thanks..."

Not long after he was bitten the man fell to the ground screaming in agony. He thrashed as if he were having a seizure and after that he became one of them. She seemed angered at the man's death.

"Don't mention it. I take it you've been here for some time, seeing that you did not try to help him. Tell me, what is one like yourself doing in this god-forsaken land?"

He seemed unphased at the man's brutal death - he may have shown a few traces of sympathy for the man, but even that was mostly hidden over by a cold, stoic resolve.

"Yes, it's been quite awhile. I could say the same for you." He sighed. "My name is Devon, and I'm here on business." He smiled just a little, as if he might have been joking, but it was still hard to tell if he was serious or not. "What about you?"

"My name is not of your concern, you'll either leave or die...just like everyone else did. However if you must call me something then Dev will suffice. I've been here since just after the Cataclysm struck, a small island collided with this one during the madness. I wish it had stayed secluded from he rest of the world." She would sigh a bit before checking if it was clear outside.

"There seems to be none of them out there. Take care with your 'business'"

"You seem to be in a hurry to get rid of me. I hope I haven't worn my welcome out. Actually, I was hoping to talk to you - I don't seem to run into many survivors that can hold their own out here. You weren't bad out there."

She shook her head, her hair showed a glint of blue color in the beams of light that shown down from the roof. This is unnatural in this world but it did not seem to be dyed.

"Every survivor here has outstayed their welcome. Seeing that you helped me out there, I owe you at least that conversation you requested." She would pause for a moment, she sense something...not a survivor and not one of 'them'. Devon would too, sense this strange aura. "I've trained for some time as a assassin. Our race takes pride in our combat skills."

"Your...race?" Devon was very curious, even as he sensed something else in the area. "Tell me about yourself."

She glared back at him before opening the door and slipping outside silently.

"I am not at liberty to speak of my race to one such as a stranger to me. Now, we'd best be on the move, they'll find us here if we stay too long. There are many safe houses like this in the area, generally I go from one to another and gather supplies on the way. If you'd like to travel with me I have no complaints, however, I will not hesitate to kill you should you get injured by one of them." She seemed utterly cold when she said this. As she walked she'd whisper under her breath, "I've seen enough die around me."

Gun shots might be heard a bit farther from this safe house and if they investigated they would see a Sa'kage forger and 15 of his trash bots. They were tearing apart a horde of zombies with ease, the trash bots also had guns welded and emplaced on thier backs. The forger would be calmly shooting the zombies with a 12 gauge shot gun.

Eve quickly made her way to where the shots were fired. Her eyes almost glowed when she realized that the man had doomed himself by using such loud weaponry. Gradually the wind picked up and spun around her like it had when the glyph appeared earlier. The glyph that once appeared under her feet now shot out of the ground and flew around her. The glyph disappeared as she pulled her whip from her side and began to fight her way through the hordes.

Leeriesa made no sound as thorns and bone grew from it. Not a cracking sound filled the air as it was flew through the undead and forged a path to the man. It's dance seemed almost choreographed. It was graceful and the movement were well known to both Eve and leeriesa.

He looked over and smirked at the new comer and continued killing zombies easily "Well thats interesting!". The trash bots were not tiring as the ripped up undead after undead.

She cut a path through the hordes and made her way to the center where the man and his robots were fighting. The darkness possessing her would dissipate and Leereisa would return to its normal form. She stepped back to back with the man and fought along side him. It was inevitable that more undead would follow the sounds of his gunshot so they had to quickly find a way to escape.

"What is so interesting? Do you not know they respond to sounds? Using weapons like that just draw more in."

He would ;augh "That whip of yours. And oh yea i know! I come her pretty often, i hunt the bigger beasts that roam the island they usually have scrap metal stuck in em."