Hello everybody. TrueKnightFall here. This is my first fanfiction ever, loosely based off the film Alpha and Omega. The film warmed my heart, and my love for wolves grew watching it. Honestly, I am a sucker for three things, romance, post-apocalyptic stories, and anything futuristic. I decided to start off with a dark, gritty post-apocalyptic story in the near future, populated by anthropomorphic wolves who know only one thing: survive. Feel free to leave a review, for it would be greatly appreciated. Also, readers beware, this story is rated M for extreme violence, strong language, and dealing with very, very dark subject matter that could offend some people. If you decide to continue on, I hope you enjoy my first story. It was inspired mainly by the Metro series, a book and video game franchise that I highly recommend if you are in any way into post-apocalyptic themes. 0ther inspirations include Fallout, and The Last of Us. Without further ado, enjoy.
Chapter 1: Embers
The fire was nothing but embers now. Nothing but dying orange rocks of comforting warmth, their light slowly fading away, as if being dragged away by the darkness that surrounded him. He stood at the mercy of the pitch black, and still it wanted more from him. The weathered, beaten down jacket he wore heavy on his shoulders provided no comfort nor warmth. None at all. His rough, ravaged by apocalyptic weather and time, turned dark grey fur coat felt dirty and grimy underneath the layers of clothing he wore. He coughed, spitting out dark grey mucus and blood from his throat. The concrete building that protected him from the deathly winds and acid rain didn't do much for the weakening hunger that lurked in his mind. His stomach growled in protest but there was little he could do other than nibble pathetically at left over blackened bread that made him sick to the stomach. He looked up the embers again. Their fiery orange glow reminded him of her. He held his head low in a dark depression. A single tear rolled off his cheek, and dissipated from the heat of the dying light. Maybe he would have been able to make it back to jasper. Or its blackened remnants. Maybe. He couldn't even remember how long it had been since the bombs fell, erasing everything in their path in atomic hellfire. He pulled out of his pocket the only reason he was alive. A crumpled, faded photograph with blood splattered on in, darkened from time. In the frozen moment of time, you could see a look of happiness, and feeling rare in this new age. A blond wolf, still on the slip of paper, smiling at the camera. It created a warm illusion that she was smiling at him. He didn't even knew if she was still alive, but he knew it was the only reasom he fought to survive. The only reason he struggled. She could have been raped, killed, or worse. He still fought, no matter the cost. Sometimes, when they weren't blackness or repercussions of the light that disintegrated all in its way, he saw her in his dark dreams. Her bright smile, her slender body, her beautiful eyes. Sometimes, he would wake up, tears falling off his face. The heavy realization of this new radioactive reality would hit him harder than any fist could, and make it harder for him to get up every day. But still he fought. Even the mental image was either blurry, faded, or too dark for him picture, he always remembered one thing, and he knew he would never forget. He prayed to a dead god that she was ok. The only thing he knew for certain was that her name was Kate.
He reached gruffly for the heavy, dull, blood stained machete that lay on the concrete. His revolver lay clipped onto his belt where it hung until needed. Only four bullets were in the clip. He slipped the picture back into the pocket of his jacket right next to the breast pocket. The stranger sheathed into his belt. He forced himself up from the warmth into the cold and hung a heavy backpack over his shoulders. The backpack contained a rifle on the side, a can of soup, and a canteen of dirty water. The rifle and bullets in it made up most of the weight. He took a last look at his dying bonfire of solitude. His only temporary source of warmth in this cold destroyed world as he trekked across the deformed surface of earth, in a dwindling hope that he would find the wolf he desperately needed to cope in this new hell. He thought of how much he loved her. He put his hand on the breast pocket of his jacket again praying. He begun to move again, on the dark journey that would consume his entire will for a lifetime. He walked out of the concrete building, and into the grey. Everything around him was destroyed, and the harsh winds and rain were immediately beating him down. He knew his objective. Get to Jasper City, or what remains of it, if it even remains at all.
He was on the decimated road now, forcing his body with every step that he took forward to cooperate. He came across a small town. It actually had a little bit of color to it. Rare, he thought in his head. The forgotten ads and signs around the town still had rusted out color to it. They out stood like a beacon in the grey world. He looked at the dark grey and black clouds that constantly blocked out the sun. It was rare to see real pure sunlight.
As he walked down the towns destroyed roads, he noticed a group of other wolves raiding one of the burnt buildings, looking for food. He immediately ducked down behind the colourless metal husk of a car. He knew that confrontation was idiotic. A good way to get killed. It was survival of the fittest in this new world and was kill or be killed. He had learned that the hard way. He had killed more than a few innocent people in his lifetime. He also knew how these savages worked. He had once been on their side.
He decided it would be stupid to try to kill them for the little supplies they could have had so he sprinted and fast as he could to a nearby alley way to try to bypass them. He carefully trotted down the alley, his hand almost on his gun, ready to jump. He had to remember, only four bullets for his pistol, only three for his rifle. He crouched and peeked over at the corner at the end of the alleyway, having thought he heard something. He noticed what looked like a man, dressed the same as everyone else, covered in dirty clothing. A bloody body lay underneath him. Another man, dead by a bullet wound. He surviving wolf put a revolver into his backpack, and started to bang on the door to the side building. An empty shell for a pistol lay in the blood pooling on the concrete.
"You can't hide forever girly!" The man yelled banging on the door. The stranger knew this world well enough to know what he was going to do with her. He quietly snuck around corner, where the man was busy banging on the iron door. A small whimpering was heard from behind it.
"Just you wait till my buddies get here!" He yelled again.
"Go away! Leave me alone!" A muffled sobbing feminine voice responded.
The stranger was about to approach him from behind, ready to break his neck, he kicked a can on the ground.
"Who's there?"
He said nothing, just reacted, smashing the man's entire face into the door, pining one of his arms behind him as he dropped the gun.
The man relentlessly elbowed the stranger in the ribs, making him grunt in pain. The man turned around and sent his fist flying into the stranger's face, his fist connecting with his grey muzzle. Be stumbled back, and the man kicked him in the head, almost losing his balance.
The stranger fell to the ground, holding the end of his muzzle, a little bit of dark blood seeping through his hands.
"You fucking assho-"The man said before the stranger smashed is shoulder into his stomach, winding him. He took the opportunity of him hunching over in pain trying to catch his breath, and ruthlessly grabbed the back of his enemies head, grabbing all the fur he could and yanking his head awkwardly back. He used his free hand to punch him in the face, and then used to the hand he was grabbing him with to smash his whole head as hard he could into the brick building wall. He felt his skull crack in his palm. The man slid down, groaning, facing the wall on his knees. The stranger immediately looted him knowing the noise he made could attracted the others. He found a protein bar and other objects that provided no use to him. He grabbed the revolver and checked the clip. One bullet. He slipped it in his belt.
He looked at the iron door that savage he just killed had been pounding and heard the whimpering behind it. He looked at the body on the ground. Maybe her husband? He thought. He heard crack of a wooden door and glass breaking, followed by her scream out the front of the building.
"Hey guys I found her! Johnson go check on Iron!" A survivor said as the girl whimpered more behind the door.
"Hey, open the door, I can help you." The stranger said, against the door.
"Go away!" The woman replied, panicked.
"She's in the supply room!" The same man that said he found her said as another door cracked somewhere in the dark concrete bowels of the building that she was in.
The stranger's voice was dark and grungy, and didn't exactly sound comforting in any way.
"Listen to me very carefully. I don't have much time, but I can tell you this. I'm not like the rest. So you come with me and live, you don't you die." He said quietly and almost harshly.
Silence responded.
The Stranger didn't knew why he was doing this. He thought he was being stupid.
He heard running down the side alley.
"Iron!" Another man called from the side.
"It's now or never!" He said.
The door opened and she came out, terrified.
Her fur was dark brown and black, and she was wearing a dark office jacket, dirty and torn. She had been crying for a long time. She looked like a German Shepard with slightly rounded ears. Her leg was bleeding badly, and he could tell she couldn't put any pressure on it. She was considerably smaller than the stranger. He was at least two heads taller than her, but he could tell she was a woman.
His expression turned to stone.
"Can you walk?" He said, noting the wound in his head.
"I don't think so." She whimpered.
The stranger immediately pulled the backpack off, and held it his hand.
"Get on my back. Now." He barked at her just as the marauders noticed them from the alley.
"Oh fuck! Iron! You bastard!" One of the group of three yelled, all pulling out bats and pipes.
The stranger shot the bullet off from the revolver he found, making them cower as the girl climbed on his back, still whimpering from the pain.
As soon as she had good grip, wrapping her arms securely around his neck, he took off.
She was very light, which wasn't a good thing. She hadn't ate in while based on her weight and was probably starving. The stranger sprinted down the alley he came, running out into the open street. The group was gone. In the convince store she was in previous.
"Why are you helping me!?" She said as he ran down the road before the strangers could realize what was going on.
He didn't respond, just kept on running.
After what felt like an hour of running, they came across gas station on the side of the black and grey highway.
He noticed the girl was asleep on his back. Not a good sign. She could have been dead for all he knew.
"Hey, you awake?" He said, nudging her head with his.
"Huh…." She said groggily.
"Don't fall asleep. I found somewhere, and we got get the wound on your foot fixed." He said, running into the gas station. It was dark, but not too dark. He found a good place to lay her down on the floor.
"I'm so thirsty…." She muttered.
"You just lost a lot of blood. You need to drink right now." He said opening his backpack, and pulling out his only bandages.
"Do you mind?' He asked, having just met this woman under these circumstances.
"I just want water…" She mumbled.
He took that as a yes and took off her shoes, almost falling apart and rolled up her pant leg. Her ankle had a bullet wound, but luckily, the bullet went through. He started to wrap in bandages, listening to her whimpering.
"Whimpering ain't gonna change nothing." He said coldly. With a hurt expression, she was little quieter.
Once he was done, he rolled the pant leg back down.
"That's gonna hurt for while…" He said as she stared at him with distress in her eyes.
He pondered giving his only water to her.
"Fuck it…" He muttered, pulling the canteen out of his backpack.
He moved towards her and pulled her body up by her armpits, and rested her head and back on his cold chest. The jacket made it cold.
"Here." He handed her the canteen.
"Sorry." She sounded guilty. She didn't grab it.
"Just fucking take it." He responded.
"Don't have to be an asshole about it." She said, hurt and offended.
He didn't respond.
She hesitantly took it and started to gulp it down.
"Slowly. Slowly." He said in what sounded like a little bit of a comforting voice.
She didn't expect that.
She obeyed, but saved a little for him.
"Thank you." She responded.
The stranger set up another bonfire as night fell. The girl was leaned against his backpack to be sitting up. He sat holding his knees. The fire crackled and roared in the dark building. A feeling of quiet serenity took over.
They sat on opposite sides of the small fire made up from half burnt fire wood gotten from the back of the station.
They sat there, soaking up the warmth in the darkness.
The girl was nibbling uncomfortably on the bread the stranger had earlier, not complaining. A better meal awaited, being heated by rusty grill over the fire in a can.
"You never told me your name." She asked.
"Does it matter?" He responded darkly watching the sparkling fire.
"Well yeah. You just saved me for no reason at all, my knight armor, but you won't tell me your name? How do I know you're not like the rest?" She said, glaring at him.
"I saved you didn't I." He responded, not even looking at her. Just that same cold expression on his face since she first saw him.
"That doesn't answer my question." She repeated.
"How do I know you are not like the rest?"
A little bit a silence passed, making her nervous.
"Well?" She asked.
"Because if I was like the rest, I would have killed you by now." He responded.
This scared her.
He felt a little bit bad about it at first, but then realized that there was no reason to feel bad. This was dark world, and she had to get used to it if she wanted to even try to survive in such a unforgiving and murderous universe.
After a while, she finally spoke up again.
"Could you at least tell me your name?" My name Is Alisa." She said, staring hard at him.
He didn't respond. Didn't even acknowledge her. Just kept starting at the fire with the can over it.
"There is no use…" She mumbled, looking down at floor, rubbing her sore leg.
A bit crackling silence passed.
"Humphrey."
She opened her eyes and looked at him, surprised. He was still staring into the fire.
"My name Humphrey."