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Post by CHARLENE ROSE DARNELL on Jan 10, 2013 1:11:55 GMT -5
You were walking in the sunset again without a hassle
In the interim, a princess was in another castleThis is stupid.
That was the lone thought on Charlie's mind as she stood still, pausing to watch the sun dip below the horizon. A sliver of it was still visible, and that sliver mocked her as, on the other side of the sky, stars began to peek out at her, cheeky, taunting. Her breath fanned out in front of her as the temperature fell to the day's low, and she pulled her hood up around her ears, trying to keep out the cold. The wind lazily grazed her face in a bitter kiss, and she thought she heard it whisper. She also thought she heard moaning from beyond the walls. She tried not to.
Another day wasted. Instead of her usual grin at the sky, Charlie offered it a sigh and a half-hearted glare. "Why's time gotta speed up on me, huh?" she asked up at it, seeking a fight with the speed of the day. She offered a small laugh in self-deprecation, and shook her head, her dark hair falling over her eye again. Silly girl. Time wasn't hers to control.
Still, it was a day wasted all the same; she'd spent the time doing what she usually did, and that was avoiding doing anything productive. Oh sure, she tended to her large garden - but there wasn't a whole lot to do for it in the bleak cold of January, and it was a boring, chilled chore that she'd rather not partake in. She'd hung around the house and played with Amelia, but though the kitty loved playtime, she didn't exactly like being around the house. Mother would just sit there, listening to the cat mew and purr and listen to Charlie coo at her like the fluffy thing was her baby; she wouldn't say anything, just stare at nothing. Well, she always stared at nothing, but it was worse than usual - like there was nothing in her head, either.
So Charlie thought she'd leave the house and go play music somewhere - since Cecilia couldn't stand the sound of it anymore, or so Charlie assumed - and she sought to play on street corners for people for a while. That worked until her fingers turned blue and someone yelled at her to get back inside before she froze to death; she put aside her ukulele and grabbed a pair of gloves, but did not heed the rest of the advice. Instead, she thought, why don't I see if I can bike all the way around town, by the wall? I mean, why not?
So she biked and biked until her legs were sore - and she winced, thinking of them, and rubbed her aching bum momentarily. And, though the town was small, she ended up pretty much the furthest away from home that she could possibly be, just as darkness yawned and settled on top of her like a cat curling up on a cushion. And she still hadn't turned around and headed home, because she still didn't want to face her mother, and -
- the sooner I become a Hunter, the better.
In the midst of her ruminations, she'd taken a seat on the ground, her back leaning against an empty old place that looked sad and abandoned, her face tilted up towards the sky. The sun had long since departed, and icy cold washed across her face as she winced and got to her feet, searching for her bike. It was definitely past nine, and evasive as she was, she wasn't stupid.
But Charlie didn't find her bike right away. She squinted into the alleyway where she'd propped it up against a wall, trying to make out its shape in the blackness. A different shape loomed back at her until it finally stepped out into better lighting, a crooked grin upon its mouth; she took a faltered step back as she examined this well-muscled man that was examining her like she was a piece of meat.
"Can I help you?" Charlie said, standing up as straight as her small body could muster to stare him squarely in the eye. C'mon, girl, you're not gonna let a MAN scare you, are you?
"It's a little late for little girls to be wandering the streets, don't you think?" At the question, he cocked his head, and took a step towards her. Charlie took another step backwards, but continued to crane her neck and (try to) stare him down.
She attempted her usual girly smile and said, "Oh, well, I was just heading home -"
His hand shot out and grabbed her forearm before she could so much as twitch. "What's the rush, sweetheart?"
Charlie's heart sank as the man closed in on her. She'd left her pocket knife and pepper spray at home, thinking - stupidly - that, with all the survivors relying on each other, the only thing to worry about were the zombies, and they were outside the walls. But even in a dire situation such as things, some things never changed - and a sex-crazed maniac was one of them.
So she drew a breath and screamed.
The burly hand clamped hard over her mouth, and she bit it, and he growled and started dragging her into the alley. She struggled and struggled, but couldn't break free.
Well. Shit. There I was, none the wiser, both of us, different trajectories
Who'd have thought we'd be right here in this spot TIMING IS EVERYTHING {OOC: npc usage, hope you don't mind! ouo feel free to use this creep as well, idgaf about his actual character since he's just a random npc for minor plot purposes.}
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Post by ERIC JAMES CALDER on Jan 10, 2013 15:12:44 GMT -5
"You look tired." The words snapped Eric back to reality as the sun started to disappear over the horizon. For a moment, he blinked absentmindedly at his friend, another officer who had made it to Henley Falls even before himself. "Lucy's having nightmares again," Eric responded, letting out a heavy breath of air through his nose.
Eric loved his sister dearly, but it was never supposed to be him taking care of her and raising her. It wasn't fair to her that she had to lose her parents at such a young age. In someways, Eric felt guilty. He could have prevented what happened. Even if his father had to die, his mother didn't have to. His mother... a woman who hadn't even given birth to him and yet she had been around to raise him. She'd been there for him every step of the way and yet now, she couldn't be there for Lucy, her daughter by birth and blood.
"Why don't you head home then and get some rest? I can handle watching the gate myself for a while." For a moment, Eric was tempted to refuse the offer, but he knew that he was likely to be woken again that night by his distraught sister. Knowing how much their parents death haunted her only gnawed at the man even more. "Alright," he said, standing up and jumping down from the bed of the red pick-up truck that they had been sitting in. "Just remember, if something happens, you were the one who told me to go home."
"Yeah, yeah," the other officer said, rolling his eyes. "Just get home asshole. See ya later." Smiling somewhat, Eric nodded and did as he was told, however reluctant he may have been to leave his post. "Night," he called out behind him as he made his way through the streets. Eric always felt bad, leaving his sister with people that they hardly knew while he went out to do his job. Still, he knew that the safer the haven was, the safer his sister would be. As far as he knew, Lucy was all he had left and he wasn't going to let a damn thing happen to her.
Pulling the hood of his gray hoodie up and over his head, Eric pushed his hands into the pockets of the black leather jacket that he wore over it. A hand gun was safely holstered at his side, its weight so familiar that it may as well have been an extension of his body. Face flushed from the cold air, he wound his way around the streets, eager to seek refuge inside the house that he now resided in with his sister and a few others that he had met on the way to Henley. He may have lived there, but it wasn't his home. No, Eric's home was where his parents bodies now rotted, as horrific as thought thought may have been.
Caught up in a silent reverie, the thirty-three year old man stopped dead at the sound of a scream cut short. Eric had plenty of experience crime, murders... you name it, he'd seen it. The knowledge of past experiences forced him to unholster his gun as he made his way toward the scream, preparing himself for whatever was just around the corner.
"Let her go," he said, loudly from the mouth of the alley as he rounded the corner. His gun was pointed right at the man, his blue eyes never leaving him. He watched his every movement, his jaw set and his face hardened. The gun in his hand was steady, ready to shoot at a moment's notice as he slowly but surely moved forward. "NOW."
Eric's expression and stance didn't so much as give away the fact that his heart was pounding away in his chest, beating faster and faster. The adrenaline was starting to rush through him, a highly familiar sensation. Despite years of working to stop sickos like the man in the alley, Eric still went through a rush. Half the time, that rush was what kept him alive.
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Post by CHARLENE ROSE DARNELL on Jan 12, 2013 2:06:37 GMT -5
The man's hands were warm, uncomfortably so. They were also big and calloused and unfamiliar; the width of one covered her mouth and nose, and she gasped against it, trying to suck in a breath and finding herself increasingly lightheaded. She didn't bite him again - and she hadn't broken the skin in her first try, in fact and all honesty, her teeth had barely scraped his skin - but, with her free arm, she tried to push his hand off her face, thoughts of suffocation surfacing in her panic.
His fingers were still laced tightly around her upper arm, and her feet were very nearly pulled off the ground with the strength he was using to drag her away. It was all very fast; seconds had hardly passed since she began searching for her bike, but now her entire world was spinning. Literally, at this point, since the air in her lungs was squeaking out of her like helium from a balloon and she had to struggle to suck any back in, and her vision was going fucked from lack of oxygen. At least it was just a hand, and not chloroform - but that was hardly optimism in the face of a situation that, to Charlie, could be one of the worst she'd ever been threatened with.
She just couldn't help but focus on his raggedy, almost ill breathing, and his abnormally warm hands, and the tiny, pained cough that escaped his lips. She didn't want to help him, as awful as he sounded; if anything, it made him more fearsome and repulsive to her. She struggled and struggled to break free, but his grip was that of a dying man's, and she was his last lifeline.
Moments after she'd screamed, a new voice entered her world. A strong, loud, cold voice that was not her captor's leering whisper. "Let her go," it - he - demanded, and Charlie looked up, attempting to focus in on a figure as her kidnapper halted in surprise.
"NOW," the new man continued - and Charlie wondered vaguely, frustratingly, if she'd ever seen him before, but she just couldn't focus. She pulled at the potential rapist's hand to suck in another tiny gasp of air, and noticed that the new man had a gun pointed in her captor's direction.
The sleaze paused, and Charlie heard him lick his lips, and she shuddered in disgust. "I know what you're thinking," he rasped, attempting to negotiate - she sucked in another awful breath around his hand - "but, please, you've just gotta let me go. I've been infected just recently, and I just want this one last night."
She froze.
... infected...?
A hard, awful lump rose up in her throat, and terrified tears began to pool in her eyes. Infected, she thought again, blankly. Be-zombie'd. Hours to live. Almost a monster. Done running, time to start walking. And he's got... he's gonna...?
She couldn't finish the thought. Her mind was going crazy from lack of oxygen, and nothing but fear stretched across it for miles. I bit him, she thought, shocked, and tried to reassure herself: But I didn't break skin! And he's not a walker yet! I'm okay, I'll be okay, it's okay -
She stared up at her potential savior, fear evident in her wide brown eyes as she fought against the sick man's grip, and a few tears leaked out of her eyes. A gross crying session couldn't be far behind for the weakest-minded Darnell of the Darnell-Alirit family.
It's too bad she was about to faint from his grip. |
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Post by ERIC JAMES CALDER on Jan 12, 2013 3:04:32 GMT -5
Eric faltered for a moment. Infected. The word rang through his head and he tried to wrap his thoughts around it, all the time not so much as lowering his gun. He swallowed hard, approaching the two even more so, despite his reluctance. "That doesn't give you the right to so much as touch her," Eric stated, eyes flickering for just a moment to the girl's face. She was scared and he didn't blame her in the least. He tried to give her a reassuring look, turning his full attention back to the man. "I'm afraid I can't let you go. We can get you help... they'll make you comfortable at least, but you have to let the girl go first."
The man could turn at any moment; there was no saying how much time he had left. He had to be quarantined for the safety of everyone else. "Think about it.... do you want to infect someone else?" This thought made Eric vaguely worry for the infected man's victim. Had she herself been bitten by this man? He had no idea if the virus could be spread from someone who hadn't yet turned.
The girl was panicking, losing oxygen, and Eric stepped forward again, this time more threateningly. "I won't hesitate to shoot you in the fucking face." His tone was going from controlled and calming to angry. All the haven needed was one infected man roaming the streets and it could spell the end for all of them. Not to mention, whoever she was, Eric doubted that the girl deserved what the man had intended to do to her.
Grinding his teeth was all Eric could do to stop himself from pulling the trigger right then and there. His heart was pounding harder and faster, his face likely pale as a ghost from the sheer shock of the man's confession. In some ways, Eric may have felt bad for him... even pitied him. That still gave him no right to condemn an innocent person for his own, selfish final wishes and desires. Just the thought made Eric feel a little sick and he found himself trying to hold back a gag.
"One...." Eric started to count, his orders not being followed fast enough for his own liking. He hoped the girl stayed calm enough in case he had to shoot. He didn't want her getting hurt when he was only trying to help her out of a sticky and rather disgusting situation. "Two...." He couldn't help but wonder what sort of insanity was going on through the man's head. Had he always been like that or were his last hours really just driving him over the edge? Eric hated to think what it had to be like... knowing that you only had hours to live. Still, the man was just as much of a monster than as he would be once he turned. "THREE-"
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Post by CHARLENE ROSE DARNELL on Jan 12, 2013 13:25:43 GMT -5
C'mon, Charlie thought - and even in her mind, she felt like she was gasping for air, the man's large and oppressive hand still covering her mouth and nose. Pull yourself together! She tried to ignore the fear - to avoid it, like she was so capable of doing. The tears continued to streak down her face; she was too close to the situation, and it was too dangerous.
The law enforcer - for Charlie was pretty certain that he was such - was still aiming the gun at the infected man (and the word still rung through her head, fresh and horrifying, infected infected infected), issuing demands and such. Shit was about to get really fucking ugly here pretty soon. Pulling herself together had never seemed like a more prudent option - or a more impossible one.
The man didn't move, even as the law enforcer began the countdown. He tightened his sweaty, repulsive grip on Charlie, pulling her closer to his body. She still couldn't breathe really well, and black spots started appearing in her vision. But she was too small to be really used as an effective shield, and the guy knew it, and so did the law enforcer, and so did she. Everyone knew what was going to happen next. It seemed inevitable. In the end, it was just how long it would take for him to count to three.
She closed her eyes and waited.
BANG.
The bullet ripped through the air, tearing through the man's skin with a horrible ripping sound. She couldn't see where it hit him, as he was still holding onto her when the shot was fired - but when it hit, he gasped, his hands convulsing and losing control of her for the briefest of seconds. She took that moment to rip herself away from his grip, gasping for air, her eyes and nose streaming grossly. Her legs wobbled and threatened to collapse under her; she steeled herself, flinging out a hand to hold herself upright against the wall.
She didn't want to look at the body, but she felt this disgusting urge to see the carnage. She glanced behind herself; the bullet had gone through his eye, the most direct route to his brain; blood and other bodily fluids were smeared across his stiff face, forever clasped in a moment of grim horror. It was wildly intriguing, disgusting as it was; she wrestled with the sudden, awful impulse to step forwards and get a closer look.
Instead, she turned her back to it to face the law enforcer, knowing full well she looked like a wreck and not able to find it in herself to care. Snot was beginning to build up, and she wiped her nose impatiently with the back of her wrist; she hiccuped, embarrassed, as a few more tears of hysteria dried on her face, and she was still gasping for breath - as though she'd run some sort of marathon. She'd certainly felt the adrenaline.
Yet, from sheer force of will, she didn't collapse into a sack of shit and give herself over to useless sobbing; she didn't allow her knees to bring her down, and though she was still leaning against the wall, she did not sit on the ground. She grimaced at the law enforcement officer in a way that seemed impossibly good-natured and choked out a lighthearted joke: "Well, that was more fun than I ever want to have again."
It was a poor attempt at humor, but that was how Charlie dealt with things - by minimizing and trivializing them. She told herself she had plenty of time to be emotional back at home. She blatantly ignored the fact that she still probably wouldn't let everything loose there, either.
But, suddenly, a thought struck her. She glanced back at the body, her eyes wide as the horrible impossibility was brought to reality; the infection would have killed her potential rapist, but instead, the law enforcer killed him first. Did that mean the infection was going to reanimate his corpse now a bit early? Did that mean the danger wasn't entirely over?
"Is he gonna...?" she began, wondering aloud, but couldn't bring herself to complete the statement. Her body was tired of fear, but she could already feel it coursing through her veins again. |
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Post by ERIC JAMES CALDER on Jan 12, 2013 14:08:56 GMT -5
Eric stayed where he was for a moment, watching as the body fell to the ground. He didn't lower his gun just yet and as the girl sought balance from the nearby wall, he approached the body. Nudging the body for a moment with the tip of his foot, Eric crouched by the infected man and used the tip of his gun to turn his face while he observed the wound.
Hearing the fear in her voice, Eric's blue eyes shifted up to her. "No," he said, standing back up and letting out a heavy sigh. "But just to be safe..." Though Eric knew the bullet had hit the man in the brain, he couldn't be too sure that it was completely destroyed. Giving the girl a look as if to suggest that she may want to turn away, Eric turned his attention back to the body, shooting him in the head three more times.
Seconds after the last shot rang through the air, Eric still stood there, just breathing. Finally convinced that the infected man was not coming back, he once again holstered his gun. He would report the location of the body for clean up soon enough, but his first priority was making sure that the young woman was calm and safe.
"Are you alright?" he asked, refraining from approaching her. She was likely shaken and he didn't want to scare her even more. "Did he hurt you? Bite you?" His breath was visible in the air, the chill burning his lungs. Heart rate finally subsiding to its normal, steady pace, he tried not to let his mind wander over the dead man.
"I'll walk you home or to the hospital, wherever you need to go." He had to admit that he felt bad for her, especially after her attemptive humor. Giving her a grim smile, he just wanted to get her off the streets before she had a breakdown or something. Though he couldn't help but feel some remorse for the man, Eric reminded himself that he could have gone after anyone, even his sister. Knowing that he was dead brought him some sense of comfort.
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Post by CHARLENE ROSE DARNELL on Jan 14, 2013 17:15:13 GMT -5
Though the law enforcer gave her a very pertinent look as he approached the corpse - and though Charlie knew exactly what it meant - she couldn't find it within her to move. Evasive though she was, this scenario weirdly fascinated her - almost as much as it scared her. At the last second, she tore her eyes away from the body - split seconds before shots rang out through the cold night air. She sighed, and a great wave of relief swept over her. The guy was dead, and he wasn't about to infect her, either. Thank god.
She stayed leaning up against the wall - the remains of her terrified tears drying, and wiping her nose with her sleeve one last time - and just took deep breaths, pleased to be alive. No doubt the shock and horror of the night would come over her again as she was trying to sleep tonight, but for now she wasn't thinking about that; she was just feeling overwhelming gratitude for her survival in one piece.
When the law enforcer spoke to her again, she mustered up all of her strength to push herself off the wall and stand up straight. Her eyes were bright and relatively dry, and she seemed relaxed or, at the very least, of balanced mental capacities. "Yeah, I'm okay, and uh, thanks so much," Charlie said, only a small part of her more lighthearted demeanor forced. (The easy thing about this whole thing is that she was so used to avoiding everything that it was no longer difficult to feel relaxed.) "Naw, he didn't try anything, I'm good."
He offered to walk her home, and her lips curved upwards in a close-lipped smile. "Kind of you to offer, sir...?" There was a pause as she realized she didn't know his name. "But it's aight, I live all the way on the other side of town and I can just... bike... there..."
The sentence trailed off as she stared into the darkness of the alley - her eyes having long grown accustomed to it - and noticed a shape on the ground. It was her bike, but it looked... wrong. She frowned and took a hesitant step, and once she was sure her knees wouldn't wobble, walked briskly past the corpse - keeping her eyes up and away from it - and knelt by her bike. Or, what used to be her bike; the seat had been taken off, the handlebars broken off, and the tires slashed. There was no riding it in this condition. "Oh, fuck," she muttered.
Boy, that guy sure had been thorough. When the thought hit her, she jumped a little, certain she'd seen something moving in the alley. Her heart rate jumped up to the pace it'd been at moments again, and her eyes darted to and fro until she ascertained nothing was there. Maybe she wasn't as over the incident as she'd like to believe.
She hurriedly walked back to where the law enforcer was standing, who'd no doubt watched the whole thing. "Just kidding, it's broken," she said with the same sort of awkward humor as before - not to mention redundant, since he'd no doubt seen the wreckage himself. "Um... look, I'm not gonna make you walk all the way across town, it's kinda late..."
She didn't mention the hospital, but either way, she wouldn't be going there. She hated the place; there was no escaping the hopelessness of humanity's existence there. She stayed far away from it, if only to pretend that one day they'd all make it. |
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