idalie
ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ʙᴀʙʏʟᴏɴ
November 18th, 2020
6:00 PM
Quarantine. Days which dragged on by in a growing shanty town where the refugees had dreams of returning home. Five months of turmoil, where people had seen primal madness. Soldiers mowing down crowds in their armoured cars, spotlights and empty bullet casings. A war zone, the type of which no blooded American would ever have thought to see on US soil. Didn't matter what you called it; a hiccup in evolution, the end times -- what mattered was the beating heart. The empathy in the eyes of a fellow human, the flush health of their skin. These were the things people would sooner or later learn were the most important. The world was finished with this era, nuclear plants shutting down in wake of government protocol, the gas lines cleared, and electricity coming to standstill. Water became scummy in stagnant tanks and for once, since the introduction of manmade light, we could see the stars unlike we had ever before. Where once we would only acknowledge the brightest, we could see even the smallest which clustered to dimly illuminate the next age. One where we would understand the dark and fear it as our ancestors had.6:00 PM
The camp was large, built into the inner city with blockades and utilising the layout of buildings. An old library housed the soldiers, whilst the civilians were put up in one of the old supermarkets and everywhere in between. Outside children played football with tin cans, men huddled over bin fires and tables were constructed from old paint cans and a piece of plywood, which held cardgames or the occasional chess match. The current reigning champion of the checkered board one of the more popular civilian doctors, Dr Singh.
With the sun beginning to set, the activity of camp had taken a sudden dip. Soldiers getting ready to exchange with the night watch and bored conversation lingering in the air over weather and when they'd be saved by helicopters and dashing CIA agents. Dreaming was one way to keep sanity, even though many thinly disguised the complete loss fo their own. Arthur sat outside the civilian quarters puffing on a cigarette, half hunched over in a recognisable attire of jacket and overalls. Embers glowed in the dusk, smoke luminous with its wispy tendrils that caught on his moustache and split upward. He adjusted himself after his back began to hurt from the slouching, shifting from one foot to another in the crisp evening. Griff, the wire-haired mutt sat by his feet, a companion of many years. Peterson fondled the canine's ears and exhaled nasally to fill the silence, glancing at his hound in adoration. "Handsome fellas like us shouldn't be in a place like this, huh?" He chuckled, voice low and coarse. The sort which rumbled in his chest when he spoke, like soft summer thunder.
But there, where the younger infants slept and many hid away from the cold, shook and shivered a man. Wearing a business suit with one shoe missing, his fever and delusions reaching a peak. This wasn't the disease which drove people mad, no, this was different. He lay down his head for the last time, amongst spare coats and blankets. His heart would stop after a while, expelling vomit and piss; but before his corpse could cool, came the twitching. His hands scuffling under the material of his prior warmth. His eyes which had previously been bloodshot and ached like an open wound began to swivel in his skull. It breathed, yes, it breathed but it was no longer a man. It was no longer human. The violence, in this strain, came after that.
Colorless Spectrum
Seabourne
PolikShadowbliss
BELIAL.
dmgink
Ungifted ;-;
Reticent
nevermind.
[THE ACTUAL ATTACK WILL HAPPEN IN THE NEXT POST. TAKE THIS AS TIME TO POSITION YOUR CHARACTER.]
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