FALALA! I'M FINALLY POSTING IT! Well...the first part at least. Here's my entry to Mikaela Vermillion Hyakuya's This World Has Died, Hasn't It? Contest! I swore to myself that I was making a oneshot. Whoop-dee-freakin'-doo, I'm making a multi-chapter thing. Great...I swear, I'm not really into post-apocalyptic stuff, so this one was a bit difficult for me. I finally got an idea on vacation while my parents were driving through a freakin' barren wasteland. I was just thinking about how the world would be like when nobody's alive anymore...and imagined a lone survivor just walking through the fields of grass...and finally came up with this story. It has a similar premise with an original story of mine, the one starring Nitrus, for those who read Infectious. Hopefully, you guys enjoy it. I believe it fits the criteria close enough...


Denial

We, the Council of Twelve, find the defendant guilty of his crimes. We sentence the guilty party to an eternity…

The disease came out of nowhere. Nobody knew the cause for it nor did they know how to prevent its infection. Perhaps a virus mutated during its cloning process, becoming something much more malevolent as its genes twisted themselves into new coils unrecognizable by the protective cells of the living body. Or it simply gained a new gene from its surroundings, a gene that made it resistant to said cells. However it was done, it was done. The first signs of death appeared near Mount Everest, famous for being the highest peak on Earth. Because of the people's isolation, nobody knew nor could they save them. When the first group of tourists arrived, blackened corpses greeted the pale people. Their dead, black eyes screamed silently to the tourists, causing them to only imagine what could have happened. As they stared in horror, one of the bodies swollen to twice its size crawled towards them. To the tourists, it seemed to groan for fresh blood. In reality, the poor soul cried for help. A braver, or more foolish, man than the rest stepped forward and bashed the blackened head with large branch. The infected gurgled horribly before sinking in the snow, its terrible black a great contrast against the white falling around it. Unable to look at the distorted, darkened faces of once-smiling natives, they hurried away from the nightmare, determined to bury the incident in their minds, unaware that they themselves suddenly carried the disease to infect the others. The blackened wings began their flight.

The tourists returned to their own countries and homes. A few, fortunately perhaps at that time, were miraculously saved from it. The other people screeched their fear to the heavens once they found their skin darkened like coal after a few days. Parts of their body began to swell, causing them to look even more grotesque than normal. Their families, terrified for their lives, rushed for expert medical attention. The disease baffled the doctors, who found it to be extremely similar to a contagion that happened years ago. The original cure for the past plague, however, couldn't prevent this one from spreading. Before they knew it, the original tourists who first came upon the disease met the same fate as the natives. By their families' own hands. It was almost as if the tourists' screams for aid fell on deaf ears. Their families only saw a chilling monster of their former loved ones that crawled towards them, hungry for flesh.

Unfortunately, nobody stopped it in time. The families were already affected. They have already contacted with others. The infection exerted a terrifying burst of speed with the new development. More and more people began to be infected with the strange, yet familiar disease. Some developed slowly, revealing the disease's presence only when people thought they were safe. Others lost their minds rapidly in their search for help. And more so, the survivors doubted their sight of who were infected and who were safe. Countries fell to ruins as people turned against one another, unsure of when the disease would strike one into a monster. Scientists worked frantically for a cure, only to be overridden by the desperate sick. The revered minds soon fell to the disease as well, ending mankind's chance to stop it. First worlds' proud order turned into chaos with people searching for shelter, supplies, security, and sanity. Third worlds barely stood a chance.

Earth, once green and fertile, blackened to match the pandemic, as if dark wings bound the doomed planet. The Black Plague rose again, this time to finish the job.

He really did enjoy watching the humans turn against each other. It was so…interesting, to say the least, how selfish people could be when faced with a choice between their life and others. Time and time again, he watched from his perch how mothers drove their children away, how fathers beat their wives to death, and how teenagers tore at each other in order to survive this great ordeal. Sad, but ever so true. At times, when he was lucky, he would get front row seats to friends stabbing their infected comrades out of fear of being infected themselves. The high-pitched screams always sang a blissful tune to the Black Plague's ears as the fire roared in the background. Then the blood. Oh, that glorious red liquid that dripped from open, pale skin and rotting, black flesh! It was amazing how it flooded the streets, unmindful of its dear importance to the human life! Its stickiness splattered walls and floors to paint the entire world in its loveliest shade of red to match with the obsidian corpses. Not only did it look beautiful, it tickled his senses. The winged disease tasted its iron properties before and continued to taste it as madness descended on the planet.

Snap.

The Black Plague scowled underneath his bird-like mask. Even without turning around, he knew who it was. That damned kid was following him again. Though he attempted to convince himself otherwise, a deep voice kept whispering to him that the boy could see him. There shouldn't be any way a brat like that would be able to see him. However, the winged disease couldn't find any other explanation for why the kid was able to follow him throughout his journey. Even after he took many people's lives, the brat still trailed after him unmindful of how dangerous the road was.

The Black Plague turned when he heard footsteps approaching him. From the holes of his mask, he saw how the blonde kid flinched. His yellow-and-red striped shirt was ripped at some parts along with his blue shorts. Dirt covered every bit of skin, and he had lost one of his shoes, leaving him to travel in a sock. Eyes wide with fear stared at the Black Plague. The boy hugged himself tightly, as if to protect himself from the elements. A cruel smirk crossed the disease's face. He pointed his staff at the kid, causing him to cry in surprise. The Black Plague almost broke out in laughter when he saw how close the child was to wetting his pants. He knew that the mere sight of him petrified the child to the point that his fear froze his feet, preventing any escape. It was easy to claim this kid's life.

However the disease just didn't feel like it. He dropped his staff, turned around, and continued making his way through the debris of fallen buildings.

The child blinked. His heart pounding fiercely in his chest, he was quite certain that this time, this time the Black Plague would claim him. However, like the many other times, the disease dropped his gun-like staff and walked away. The blonde didn't know why the disease continued to spare him, but he did. Despite the fear in his heart and the sweat on his brow, the kid narrowed his eyes determinedly. He waited until the wings were far enough before chasing after him.

The sun paid no attention to Earth's decimated state. It continued to rise and set like any normal day. It soon disappeared from the horizon, allowing the moon to take its position as the celestial guard. Even at night when the survivors fell to a troubled sleep while their comrades kept watch, the Black Plague strode forward. Diseases never rested, and this one wanted more blood. It truly was unfortunate that he lost his flight. If he had them, he would have been able to wipe away the Earth on day one. However he was reduced to foot as he searched for survivors. He growled in annoyance as the only light to his name was the moon reflecting the sun's orders. One thing he hated about the desolate world right now was the fact that many bulbs have burned, leaving Earth in almost total darkness. Foolish nobodies kept the maintenance under control.

It did help him track down survivors, however. Although light from the fires was meant to comfort the people, instead it marked them, exposed them. The disease searched for those lights now. Where there was light, there were people. Where there were people, there was flesh. The Black Plague's mouth watered from the thought of lapping up the pools of red.

Snap!

Again, the Black Plague's eyes narrowed as he whirled around. His red eyes barely made out the dirty kid from before underneath the cover of the trees just on the outskirts of the eradicated town. He scowled at the nuisance once more, wondering how the kid could see him and why he followed him. The child stopped. The winged disease saw fractions of movement and realized that the kid's shoulders were trembling. As if on cue, the wind picked up, screaming at the disease. He felt an irresistible urge to open his wings wider and simply let the wind carry him to the next town. He realized that this was his chance to continue his destruction and finally leave the boy behind. Ignoring the freezing child, he allowed his wings to majestically spread behind him. The disease remembered how it felt for the wind to support him in his flights. The desire for that sensation caused him to futilely flap his wings as if to regain what he had lost. Fortunately the wind was strong enough to carry the Black Plague. The disease felt his feet leave the ground as he closed his eyes in bliss.

"W-wait!" cried a mournful voice.

Rapid footsteps. And thump!

Again, the Black Plague's eyes opened and narrowed. The child had burst from his cover and started running towards him. However, he had tripped over something, landing face-first on the ground. The disease couldn't see the kid's face. But he saw the child's trembling shoulders. Exasperation flashed through him, causing him to blink in confusion at why he would feel such a thing. Shouldn't he feel relieved that the wind would finally rid him of this pest? What was with this empty sensation? Movement caught his eyes, and he stared as the child slowly sat up. Blood dripped down his left knee as he clutched it tightly. Now as he floated away, the Black Plague could see the tears streaming down the child's face. The child's eyes almost made him want to close his wings. Although sorrowful eyes were a familiar sight to him, the Black Plague couldn't help but feel ashamed when staring into the little one's mirrors. The empty sensation beset him once again. The wind carried him further away from the child. The boy suddenly held out a hand in desperation, crying "wait!" once again. Too soon, the masked wings disappeared from his sight.

His arm slowly drooped, the tears still streaming from his eyes. The disappearance of the person he so long followed hit the child like a ton of bricks. Unlike most children of his age, he didn't sob loudly to cry to the world of their misery. Truthfully, he couldn't understand why he was crying. He hugged his knees and hid his face. Muffled tears continued to drip. The boy could only hug himself to calm himself down. He had seen his mother and brother die before his eyes. He had heard his beloved ones' fading pleas of aid. And now, the one object that offered him some comfort finally disappeared from his grasp. There was nothing more he could do. There was nothing more in the world for him.

"Get up," an irritated voice commanded. The boy lifted his head to see who it was. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the masked disease tower over him. The black wings spread out, shadowing the kid from the moonlight. His sorrow immediately turned to fear as he realized that the Black Plague could very well take his life now. He continued to stare in horror, barely having the strength to tremble. He saw the mouth underneath the mask scowl, "I said, get up!" The boy remained still, eyes wide with fear. The mouth gritted its teeth in anger. A human hand shot out and grabbed the boy's wrist tightly, earning a cry of pain. The Black Plague pulled the boy up and turned to his original direction. Without paying any more attention, he moved forward. The boy, though terrified, understood that the disease wasn't going to wait for him. Ignoring the painful injury in his knee, he limped after the Black Plague towards one of the decimated buildings.

The Black Plague growled to himself as he sat cross-legged on the dirty floor. It wasn't necessarily the dirt that bothered him, nor was it the disgusting, musky smell of the abandoned cement. The thing that irritated him to no end was sleeping right in front of him. Although it was said that people naturally looked peaceful in their sleep, this boy was a whole different matter. His brow furrowed, the child hugged himself tightly, his shoulders trembling occasionally. At times, the Black Plague thought he saw something gather at the corner of the kid's eyes but dismissed it as his imagination. He wondered why he had to get saddled with such a child. His nails dug through his sleeves deeply. He felt his irritation mounting as he continued to stare at the kid. Finally unable to stand it, the Black Plague stood up and stomped outside.

Unmindful of the wrecked buildings all around him, the disease crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway of their meek shelter. His eyes glazed as he focused on nothing in particular. His mind began to wander. Without realizing it, the Black Plague scowled when he unearthed many unpleasant memories. He felt nail against skin, recognizing that he had accidentally ripped through his cloak. The disease cursed at the tear just as the sun began to rise.

A quiet, rustling sound alerted the Black Plague. He looked over his shoulder to see the groggy boy slowly sit up. The blonde rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before jolting awake and looking around fearfully. The kid seemed to relax when he saw the winged disease standing at the door. The Black Plague hid a smirk at the child's tension. Yet he didn't want to waste any more time than he had to. He was already behind watching over the kid.

He turned to leave. A strangled cry echoed from behind. The Black Plague only took a few steps outside when he felt something pull his cloak from the inside. His irritation returning, the disease turned around. The child released his hold on the disease's clothing, gazing desperately into red orbs.

"Will you stop following me?" the disease asked, exasperated. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how long this boy had been following him for. He remembered that he finished wiping out a town one day and the child was just standing on the outskirts. The Black Plague was satisfied with the carnage for that day so he chose not to infect the kid just yet. He continued on his way to his next destination and infect more people. However, to his surprise, the child followed him. It initially confused him that kid kept such a precise route on his tail as humans should not be able to see the disease at all. Yet this child shadowed him all the way here.

The boy flinched from the Black Plague's tone. Yet, he honestly shook his head in answer to the disease's question. The winged disease felt his annoyance mounting again. Why did the boy refuse to talk now? He was all right last night when the disease was about to fly away.

He huffed his irritation, "Well, stop following me." The Black Plague turned to walk forward again. His eye twitched from behind his mask when he heard footsteps behind him. He was extremely tempted to whip out his staff and end the boy's life with a quick infection right here. Yet he chose a different route.

Without warning, the winged disease whirled around and kicked the boy's side. He cried in pain as he fell on the dirt ground. The Black Plague stared at the unmoving figure, wondering whether that was enough to do the trick. He scowled when he saw the boy slowly get up again. The kid then slowly made his way back over to the disease. The Black Death felt his temper boiling over once the child reached him. This time, he aimed a harder kick at the boy's stomach. The kid flew even further. He coughed a few times before pushing himself off the ground. The masked disease had to admit, the boy had guts. It seemed like almost nothing was going to stop the kid from following him as he made his way back towards the winged being. He watched the boy closely, secretly admiring him for his foolish determination.

The Black Plague then frowned deeply. Something was wrong. He examined the boy further. That was strange…the boy touched his cloak…and the disease kicked him twice…yet he couldn't sense any signs of infection in the child's body. What could this mean? The Black Plague was lethal everywhere. Why wasn't this weak boy unaffected?

The disease felt his heart skip a beat. Could it be…? Impossible! He was quite certain that…

The boy finally reached him again. Although the fear was still clear in his eyes, his lines were determinedly set to resist the disease's rebukes. The Black Plague continued to stare at the child before turning around, his lips tightening into a snarl.

"Fine, I'll let you come along. But you can't get in my way, understand, kid?" although his back was turned, the Black Plague heard a slightly excited gasp. Footsteps alerted him in the kid following him. Still without looking the disease asked, "What's your name, kid? I can't call you that forever."

"…I-It…It's Lucas," the childish voice sounded a bit braver than last night. It seemed that the disease's quiet approval strengthened him. He stayed silent for a moment before mustering up a bit more courage. "What's…what's your name?"

"…why do you need to know?" the Black Plague retorted.

Lucas thought for a moment before replying, "I…I can't call you Black Plague…"

An amused smirk crossed the disease's face, yet he continued forward. "Is that what you creatures call me? I think I enjoy that nickname…" Lucas's shoulders sagged. He thought that if he used the disease's reason, he would answer back. However, it seemed as if the winged being didn't care what the others called him. But the child knew better.

"I still want to know your real name," he said resolutely. The Black Plague stopped. He turned around to face the child. Lucas couldn't see, but a hint of admiration was in the disease's eyes.

"I still want you to leave me," he shot back before turning around to walk forward again. Lucas flinched slightly from the intensity of the Black Plague's response. He stood behind uncertainly, watching the black wings leave. "I'll leave you for good if you don't hurry up!" the disease's voice shook the child out of his thoughts. He hesitated for another moment before running after the Black Plague. He finally reached the disease's side and walked beside him.


Voila! Not exactly what you guys were expecting, huh? ;) I hope this would put in a new perspective of a post-apocalyptic world. Anyways, I believe it's quite easy to know who the Black Plague really is...why is he infecting Earth? Who knows? :)

Lucas: I know!

Shh, Lucas...not yet. Soon. Hope you guys enjoyed!