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Two For The World (Eternal Wanderer x Ashmorne)

SilentMadness

Master Of Disharmony
It was yet another day. Another day of searching, of looking through scattered ruins of a town long gone. Another day of searching for any survivor of the Grim Demise, as he knew the Apocalypse has been called. How long has it been since it has occured? He couldn't remember correctly. 10 years. Yes. Just a decade ago, the world as he knew it was being wiped out, piece by piece, by that... invasion. He was just returned from the army. Having been retired earlier, with a medal of honor for serving in the war. For saving his own country. He thought that, upon his return, everything will turn back to normal. That he will have the chance to spend time with his now 3 years old daughter, who was born just a month after he's been taken at arms. But it wasn't.





He remembered perfectly the day when, getting off the bus, still dressed with the military uniform, returning to the street he lived on, with a bag over his shoulder, he saw them. Monsters. Crawling mutants on two and four legs alike, chasing every single man and animal all around, creating terror, chaos, panic and spreading death. And infection. And there it was, his house, with broken windows and a broken door. One of the horrid monsters carrying out... no, dragging out his 3 years old child, decapitated and partially eaten. His wife laying down on the porch, bloody and in agony. His heart was ripped out in that very second, as he witnessed one of the four legged fiends leap over the dying body of his wife, and ripping off her throat with its sharp teeth, fangs. He fell to his knees and cursed the skies, asking for his own death instead. But nothing happened. No beast leaped over him. His rage took over. With tears in his burning eyes, he grabbed the first monster close to him, and slammed it down to the concrete, stomping it with his boot until there was nothing left of it but a bloody mess, and smears of flesh.


And then he ran. He knew where he had to go, he saw it. Army troops already patrolling many streets, tanks, shootings. It seemed the whole city was plagued with those... beasts. It wasn't hard for him to get into the soldier lines. A weapon, a standard MP5, and then he could do it. He unleashed his rage on all the mutants, the rage caused by seeing his family dying. The fight though soon was lost, and he remained one of the only survivors of the town. The years passed by, and he started travelling, from city to city, seeking survivors, but finding nothing but other mutants, even more horrid than the previous.


And here he was. After 10 years of surviving. A tall, broad shoulder male, with a body built like a tank, dressed in nothing but black clothing, as if he mourned continuously. A pair of old, black sunglasses covering his eyes, and an MP5 in his grasp. Entering yet another demolished town, in hopes of finding any human being at all. And probably the resolve of everything.


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Blood.


It was dripping from her side, a bite from the infected dog she just killed. It didn't disconcert her, she was an immune who knew how to fight. What bothered her was trying to bandage it.



She walked in the middle of the broken street, the cracked asphalt fanning out like a rocky ocean behind her. Clutching her side, her eyes searched for an drugstores that hadn't been looted entirely. Eyes that were the color of a crow's feather, eyes that she thought maybe looked like her father's. But she didn't remember what her father even looked like. She was a wanderer, prided herself as such. Somewhere in her mind, she tried to remember the last time she saw another survivor and couldn't.



The infection broke out when she was only 15 years old, changing her life forever. And it was at age 15 when she first killed...killed something that was once a human. Now, she was 25...a seasoned expert at surviving no matter what cost. Her mind wandered to a time when she was younger, living with her older sister in a town by the ocean. But that was all a distant memory. Her sister was dead, and she was alone.



Focusing her thoughts back to the city line before her, she used the sleeve of her old jacket to clean some ash from her face. The belt at her hip sheathed a pair of Fox Exagon throwing knives that clinked as she moved. Her boots crunched the glass that littered the road. Her old jeans were torn in various places, especially the knees, and the navy tank top she wore was smudged with blood and dirt. Her faded leather jacket had stood the test of time the best. She adjusted it, hands pressed to the torn flesh at her side. Her hair swung as she walked, falling to her hips and as dark as the midnight sky. It was dirty and in desperate need of some TLC. Well, just like the rest of her. With a groan, she continued to trudge forward.



No, this was just the beginning. She would not die here, no matter how ready she was to leave this messed up world.
 
His heavy boots made thumming sounds as he advanced on the main street of the town, stepping on broken glass. The street was empty. Only remains of wrecked cars were there to remember that once, this city was as alive as any other. A dry skeleton hung over through the windshield of a car. He didn't wear his seatbelt, did he? The male thought with a sardonic smile, as he passed by the car. His eyes gazed about the ruined blocks, that were looking as if they were close to fall, should he not move faster away from them. The black leather trench coat he always wore was open, revealing a black, slightly torn out shirt, and a double sheath over his torso, with two big hunting knives. His long hair was tied at the back, as not to bother him in any fight.


Come out, wherever you are, you bastards, he thought in his mind, reffering to the mutants that he always encountered. It was already a day since he's met any of them, and his bloodthirst was raging. He wanted to kill as many of them as possible, so he could unleash his rage. Whenever he killed, he had in mind only two faces. His wife, and his daughter. He killed for them. In their memory. Suddenly, a small corner store fell under his gaze. Maybe there he could find something that hasn't been taken yet. Canned food, useful items, anything. He started taking steps towards the store, aiming forth with his MP5 as he advanced, ready to face any beast that would get in his way.


His gaze fell on the store's door, it was locked with a chain and a padlock. So, seemingly, the store escaped any gazes, and he could indeed find something inside. But how could he find something to open the padlock with? He couldn't very well start shooting at it, it might attract unwanted company. He didn't fear, but he knew he was running low on ammo, and he wouldn't make it only with two hunting knives. He searched his pocket, and found an improvised lockpick, made out of wire. With care, he approached the padlock, and started working on it, listening carefully as the wire scratched at the inside of the lock with weird sounds, continuously, before a sudden click was heard. The padlock opened and the chain was free to take.


"Hmm, i might use this" He spoke to himself as he took the chain and placed it securely at his hip. With the MP5 in hand, he touched the old door of the store and opened it, carefully, expecting at any second that something would leap out towards him.
 

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