"I would give anything to return to the dream world of yesterday if I could escape the nightmare that is today," Marceline thought as she stared up at the pale grey sky. "Each day that passes by, the world seems to descend ever deeper into hell," She sighed as her stomach growled fiercely. She had made camp on top of a decrepit department store in order to avoid the packs of mutants lurking in the city. This was a good defensive strategy but it left her vulnerable in the way of scavenging for resources. It had been a very disappointing summer which yielded very little in the way of resources and now it was shaping to be an absolutely dreadful winter. There was already a chill in the air and she was tempted to break apart an old piece of bamboo which she found in a rundown furniture store for firewood. However, the bamboo proved itself invaluable as staff and now served as her primary source of protection. She was barely able to scrape together enough food to make it through the summer months which left her unprepared for the winter that was drawing ever closer. The war had ended almost ten years ago, but ash still blanketed the city like snow and gave the sky its grey complexion. Simon used say this was called a 'Nuclear Winter' because the bombs, that the old nations used to destroy each other, altered the world on a fundamental level. Winter was twice as long as it used to be and a "good" summer would be two months of inconsistent sunlight. Scavenging and foraging for food and supplies would be much harder during this time because the sun barely showed its face from beyond the ash laden clouds. Even with these hardships, she found life was very tenacious when it came to survival. There were quite a few humans who made it through the war and set up settlements throughout the waste. In order to survive, she would have to locate one and rely on the charity of strangers, who could barely feed themselves. Nevertheless, charity was hard to come by these days. Most of the settlements were poor and small with everyone basically looking out for themselves. It was even harder for those who looked even slightly different from the "normal" people. Those in the settlements were extremely xenophobic and would typically attack Marceline on the belief that she was a mutant due to her grey skin and pointed ears, which were "gifts" from her father. Thankfully, Simon was usually able to calm the situation down before things got violent but this meant he also shared in the abuse that was directed at her. The belief that he would always be there for her made life a little more bearable. This thought seemed stupid to her now that he was gone and she was forced to hide most of her face, whenever she would barter or beg.
"He always knew what to do " Marceline's eyes welled up with tears as she journeyed back to when she was young and Simon was there to protect her. "Simon is gone and he is never coming back" She fought to suppress her memories of him which kept haunting her like phantom stirring painful emotions deep inside of her. She quickly wiped away her tears and dashed those thoughts from her head. She could no longer cry, she was a grown up now and had to act like one. Marceline crawled over to her duffel bag and pulled out her old friend, Hambo. The old stuffed monkey had seen better days. Its once bright red fur was now faded and their adventures together had left scars on his body. She may have been grown now but she could never him throw away. Hambo was the only friend, Marceline had left in the world, and he helped cheer her up whenever she was down. With his help, her mind shifted away from Simon to something more pleasant, sweets.
Marceline would give away all her belongings...but Hambo for a slice of cake, fresh baked cookies, or even a single piece of candy. Memories of sweets and treats, from before the Mushroom War, danced in her head but thse were only distant memories. The last time, she even tasted chocolate, was over seven years ago, and she could barely remember the taste now. She imagined the huge chocolate cake, her mom baked for her sixth birthday. She was pretending to eat her 3rd slice when a low groan intruded on these fantasies. It was midday and the mutants were beginning to get restless after warming their cold blood near the pools of radioactive waste. Marceline had sealed the door to her hideout on the roof with a sticky pink rubber-like goo, she called "gum", which was scattered throughout the city. However, she became too comfortable and spent too much time in one location. The sound of the mutant's moans were getting louder and acted as a signal drawing more to its location as it banged violently against the door. Marceline shoved Hambo back into her duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder. She had created a rope from linen and extension cord for this sort of emergency. She had secured the rope to an old air duct and was tying the other end around her waist when the mutants breached the door.
Years ago, the mutants were much easier to deal with or simply outrun. They were a mindless mob of monsters that attacked anything that moved with relentless aggression. Although they were still easy enough to handle one at a time, they usually traveled in groups which enabled them to overwhelm their prey before it could escape. Over the years, this pack mentality began to develop and evolve into what could be considered intelligent behavior. They had the capability to communicate with one another and they could form complex strategies in order to attack and capture their prey. The radioactive green slime that continually oozed from the openings in their bodies could melt flesh from bone. This same ooze ran just underneath their skin and made them virtually difficult to harm without putting yourself in danger. They lacked anything resembling an eye, a nose, or even a mouth yet they managed to track people down. Their distorted forms made it impossible to tell if they were ever human. As a little girl, they gave her nightmares and every strange noise made her jump at the possibility that it was a mutant ambush. After so many years of living around them, she no longer feared them like she use to, in fact part of her felt sorry for them. They were trapped in a dark unfamiliar world and they always seemed to be in pain. Those feelings aside, she knew that if given the chance, they would probably tear her limb from limb.
About ten had made it through the gap in the door and were trying to encircle her. Marceline grabbed her staff and gave any that tried to rush her, a good whack on the head. Unfortunately this was not a permanent solution as they inched closer and forced her to the edge of the roof top. She looked over to ensure it was clear descent. As another mutant lunged at her, Marceline tossed aside any second thoughts and threw herself over the edge while grasping onto the rope for dear life. The mutant managed to grab her by the duffel bag but a quick jab with her staff, forced it to let her go. The improvised rope held as Marceline's full weight tested the limits of its strength but it was way too short to reach the ground.
"Crap!" She screamed and cursed at her wasted effort. She was stuck in limbo between the mutants above her and the neglected street below. She was located on the roof of a seven story building which made a relatively defensible and safe location to rest but she had made the possibly fatal mistake of not having a foolproof escape plan. Even after gathering all the usable linen, cable, and extension cord left in the store, she was only able to reach the fifth floor. Marceline felt a hard tug upward on the rope and then another as the mutants slowly began to pull her back up. Now left with only one viable option for escape, she took out a small pocket knife and cut her lifeline which gave way easily. As she plummeted toward the street below, she corrected her body by putting feet beneath her and fell onto a convenient piece of outstretched goo that stretched between the department store and a neighboring building. This managed to slow her down a bit but not enough to stop her momentum. She ripped through it landed feet first on the hard pavement causing cracks to form in the pavement and sending a recoil of sharp pain from her legs to her head. This intense pain almost caused her to almost scream in agony but Marceline quickly held her hands tightly over her mouth and suppressed the urge. She looked up at the height, she fell from, at the mutants who trying their hardest to figure out where she went. "It's times like these, I thank God that I am half demon," The "gum" may have slowed her fall but it was her demonic genes that allowed her to survive the almost suicidal jump with only a few bones and a cracked fang that would quickly heal. Marceline had barely enough time to catch her breath when a mutant wiggled its way out of an abandoned car. "You must be the runt of the litter" She taunted. It was much smaller than the others and probably left as a sentry by the group that attacked her to guard her corpse in case; she chose suicide instead of being devoured alive. Its vacant sockets dribbled out ooze as it slanted its head to the side similar to a puzzled dog. "You must be surprised that I am still alive." She swept the mutant's legs out from underneath him and slammed her staff down upon its knees crippling it. She then stared down at the mutant as it struggled to stand. Her stomach started to growl violently like it was objecting to this massive expenditure of energy without any feasible reward. She continued to stare at the helpless creature as a drool freed itself from the corner of her mouth. "You are so lucky, I can't eat you," She mumbled under breath. Marceline would probably have eaten the mutant but she did not want to push the healing abilities. At the moment, she had to put as much distance between her and the store before more mutants arrived. With the nearest settlement was at least 2 days away by foot, Marceline had to soothe her aching stomach and make it to the outskirts of the vacant city before hunger or mutants got to her. Thankfully, there was one good thing about the winter,… the mutants would be much less active.
