They've got us he whispers in my mind. He'll come get me, we'll be safe! But I fear it's too late already. It is. My head turns to face the threat from down the road but I don't really need to. I can feel them there, walking slowly towards me, savoring the moments before my death.

He and I, we escaped. From that awful "hospital" where they experimented on us, "documented our progress", and tortured us. Our minds are connected, everything he feels or thinks, so do I. Just a little bonus from the radiation poisoning that changed us when the bombs went off, ending the world.

My hair, long and auburn but streaked through with neon green, blue, and purple, blows around me, catching the light of the setting sun. It's pretty, I realize, but that doesn't matter. Not when you're about to die.

We should have stayed together dammit! We had for such a long time since escaping, but we had to separate to get farther away from our pursuers. Together, we were the best team ever, we could do anything, face down any threat. But alone? We were so much less powerful alone. I'm on my way. Hold on just a little longer, he says. Yet he's still at least 2 miles away.

My heart pounds in my chest. There is no pause between beats. Just one sustained beat: onetwoonetwoonetwo. Adrenaline pours into my veincs. Everything is in focus, from the Dracs 100 feet away from me, to the battery abandoned in the sand on the other side of the road.

They move forward, five tall "men" wearing their all white and masks. Held in their hands are their massive white ray-guns. They are trained to fight and kill- mercilessly. Five to one, and I am already injured and weak from running for the past months.

I have one minute at the pace they're walking at. Sure, they could just end this now- shoot me from there. But that wouldn't be as fun. Yes, they are robots, but they still like to torture, rip victims limb from limb, shoot them slowly, and watch as they bleed out.

I know he will never make it. I send him everything. Every bit of love I have tucked away in me, every piece of advice I possibly can, and every thought I've ever had of him, and tell him to stay away from here- to turn back and run as fast as he can. He's my soul mate and I love him more deeply than I ever thought possible, and now I'm leaving him alone.

I turn my body towards them, to fight uselessly. I pull my bright green ray-gun from its holster on my back and also pull the smaller bright orange ray-gun from my thigh. I know this is hopeless but I must fight. Must at least give him a chance. I will be gone- ghosted in less than a minute. If I don't fight, it will all have meant nothing: breaking out, escaping, being in love, nothing. Not unless I fight.

Their walk bring them closer to me with every passing moment. The road is deserted like so many others. No one will ever notice our fight. No one will ever notice me fall. No one will ever notice me die as they murder me slowly. Such has been the way of our lives since the end of the world, no one ever noticed.

No one will notice him here in several minutes. I told him not to come but he will anyways. I am leading him to his death. But I can do nothing to help it- he will come for me no matter what.

They are here now. One says my "name": test subject 4248a. It's not my real name of course, but, of course, that's what THEY call me. I am not a person to them, merely a test subject that went wayward and needs to be controlled before it does any damage. "Controlled". That's what they called these ruthless murders.

Now they circle me- are you wondering why I haven't shot them? Here I'll tell you: you shoot one, the rest all shoot at once, you have to get away before you can shoot. I briefly consider kicking and fighting with all the martial arts training I got when I was younger- but that wouldn't do any good. These are beings made of metal and plastic- a roundhouse kick wouldn't do any good in this situation.

NO! Keep fighting Ne! you CAN'T give up! You can't! just…. Keep… fighting… his voice fades away. I know my death is near so I've cut him off from me. They lift their ray-guns and slowly pull the trigers.

"NO!" it's not even in my head any more. Dammit, he came to rescue me. Now he will die, along with me. The bolts hit me and I fall, then it all went black.

His name was Spontaneous Combustion, and I am Neon Flame. This is where my story begins.