He had been running for what seemed like hours, he had. David Whyvenyr was his name, and by God was he scared.

A few weeks earlier, post infection.

He woke up normally that day, at about ten 'o clock or so. He didn't know, nor did he much care. Just another hot summer day to him. He grumbled as he rolled out of bed and as he put on his normal sports patterned pajama pants, and slapped on his glasses. He didn't really notice it until he got to the stairs down to the first floor of his family's house, but something stank. Horribly.

"Good God," He said as he covered his nose with his T-shirt, "Did someone leave the fridge open again?"

The thing he saw next stunned him. There was blood everywhere on the floor towards the kitchen, and at the end of the trail was the corpse of his mother. David stumbled backwards out of fear and shock.

"Wha-!?" He stuttered as he gazed at his mother's corpse being devoured by a zombie he recognized as his neighbor, Mr. Johnson, "Y-you! Get off her you fucker!"

Almost thoughtlessly he grabbed a pot lying on the floor, and gave the creature a solid thwack across the head. The thing must have been quite injured already, because after David's hit, it's brain flopped out onto the floor.

"Oh..." David threw the pot on the floor and looked at the blood that had splattered onto him, "What have I done..? Was... that a zombie? I never thought... God, I need to leave this place right now."

David had always joked somewhat at his friends about how prepared he was for the zombie apocalypse, but he never believed that something like this would ever actually occur. He wasn't prepared for walking downstairs that morning and finding his mother dead, let alone discovering the world had ended while he slept. He had read a little about an odd infection spreading around the country like wildfire, but didn't really care about it. David always had a rather powerful immune system, and figured that this was just another overly-hyped epidemic like Swine Flu.

"I'll never have to worry about it," He would say as the TV Reporters were flailing about to gain views, or so he thought.

Going over the things he knew about the zombie apocalypse, he ran up to his room and equipped up. He put on his favorite bright red T-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and nice white tennis shoes. It only struck him while he was putting on his shoes, though, where the hell was the rest of his family? He hadn't heard a thing since he knocked out Mr Johnson. He quickly and quietly checked all of the rooms in his house, but strangely enough he didn't see a thing. No clues about where his Dad or Sister were either. He never really liked his family, but even then, he still hoped for their well being. They were family, after all.

"Those crazy bastards had better be okay..." He quietly said to himself.

As he walked out his front door, he had become equipped with a few weapons of sorts. He had managed to find his Dad's old rifle, and a box of ammo to go with it. He also grabbed the sharpest knife in his kitchen, and a survival kit from his Dad's things. David did get a little worried, however, because he honestly had no idea what the Hell to do with the gun he had, as the closest thing he had to gun training was watching a few videos of guns on the computer, but was certain rather little would apply to his old gun. For a brief moment wondered how his friends were doing, but he quickly put it to rest. The most important thing right now was keeping himself alive, and not thinking about how others would survive.

Two weeks later, in the central commercial district of a city David had wandered to...

David had wandered around for a while after leaving his house, but was never able to find somewhere safe enough to stay at for long. He had been all over the town he called home for a while, but every seemingly safe place he found fell one after another. The mall, the school, the apartment complex, one by one, like a set of dominos. He had always been alone, however. It made him feel so sad, it did. Every person he meet was either trying to kill him, or was already dead themselves. People do some crazy things when they lose hope. The amount of suicides he had seen was absurd. Well, absurd isn't really the proper word for it. He had gotten pretty close do doing something similar, however he just knew that he could make it out of this. He still had hope. Perhaps he could go to the mountains? He didn't know. He just knew he had to gather all the food and water he could, and run. On his way out of town, however, he saw something mortifying.

He saw the millitary, who were infinitely stronger than him and his awkward little boomstick, being pummeled by these zombies. But these weren't just regular zombies, oh no. These zombies were special. One had a arm that was swolen and scarred to all hell, another had warts or something all over it's face and kept coughing, with a tounge that touched the floor, and one was wearing a hoodie and could leap through the air like gravity was nonexistant. The soldiers was getting utterly crushed, and then something went towards them. The thing must have been as big as a car, and stomped over the other zombies like ants, and threw a damned tank at the soldiers. Poor bastards were sandwitched by the thing. David couldn't even begin to think of what to do. How could he fight against these things when all he had to defend himself with is a rifle that could believably have been found in one of the Egyptian Pharoahs tombs, and a damned kitchen knife? He was screwed if any more than three zombies found him, let alone one of those special ones.

He had no idea what to do, and was panicing, when suddenly a someone jumped out of the building onto a car. David didn't know if they were alive or dead, but the corpse made a serious dent on it, and set off the alarm. It took David a moment to process it, however this was his chance! While the zombies were worried about the car, he could slip past them, and make it to somewhere safer. Where's safer? Anywhere. David creeped out of the alley he had snuck into, took out his rifle, and started to move across the street towards a highway that lead away from town. This was only when the car alarm suddenly spuddered out, and all of the zombies started drifting towards the soldiers they were eating earlier, before being interrupted by the car. Which, naturally, involved running straight into David creeping through the street.

David quickly took scope of the hundred or so zombies that were suddenly coming after him, and made a break for the nearest shop, a small, strangely abandoned clothing outlet. He didn't take notice at the time, however there was a strange noise coming from the shop that the zombies seemed to hate. He didn't exactly have the time to get a good listen to it with the grunts of a hundred zombies rushing towards him drowning out the sound. He took a few shots at the zombies in his way, and managed to clear a small path for him to make it through. What he didn't expect, however, was a zombie soldier pinned to the wall by the tank to grab his backpack as he was running by and take out a large chunk of fleash on his arm. David barely managed to pull away, though, by taking off his backpack that the zombie had latched to. There went all the supplies he had gathered by the skin of his teeth earlier. Without a moment to spare, though, he made it through the shop doors and was able to make a barricade by pushing one of the shelves in front of the door. Hopefully, it would hold.

After the adrenaline that had been pumping through his body for a few hours now, he slumped to the floor, partially because he was exhausted from the labor and stress of what he had just barely managed to do, and mostly because of the large gash on his arm from the soldier that was bleeding him dry. While he was reaching for some socks off one of the shelves to make a jury-rigged bandage, he realized something. His glasses were gone! He couldn't see a damned thing without his glasses! He was blind, his bag was gone, including his gun, his knife, and even his food. As he lay there on the floor, a tear came to his eye. Was this where he was going to die? Was he really not going to make it out alive? As he was moping about his situation, however, he finally noticed the weird noise. I sounded like... crying? What? Was there actually someone else here? David was overjoyed at the thought. He had been alone for barely a few weeks, but never before had he felt quite so lonely. Perhaps he wouldn't die! He tied up the socks bandaging his wounds, and began slowly crawling towards the source of the crying. He tried to keep quiet, as to refrain from attracting zombies to him and his new friend, and eventually he managed to make it to where the crying was coming from, behind the counter in a small dark corner.

Just as he was about to speak, though, there was a flash from outside. Someone had fired a gun of some sort, and his new friend got angry. Very angry. As his friend stood up, he was finally able to get a good look at her. She was tall, very slender, and pale with short white hair... wait, white? That's can't be right. David was nearsighted, not colorblind. After a second, more solid look, he got a few more pointers that his 'friend' wasn't as friendly as he had hoped. Her fingers were long, very long, and red. Presumably from blood. Hell, calling them fingers would be a strech. They were damned claws! Her eyes had this strange glow to it too, yellow almost. Her jacket and pants were tattered and splattered with blood as well, God knows what the Hell happened to those.

In a instant the girl let out a shriek of some sort, and bolted out the door, slashing through the wooden shelf he had placed on the door to act as a barricade like it was made of biscuts, and kept running. David had no idea what had gotten into her, but decided to lay low and figure out what it was she was guarding so fiercely. He had a quick peek out of one of the windows, and for some reason, the zombies were all staying clear of the shop. He didn't really undrstand, until he saw the girl cutting through the zombies on her way... wherever she was going. Perhaps they were smart enough to steer clear of here due to the girl staying here? He didn't know. Those zombies didn't strike him as very smart, not at all. All they ever seemed to do was mob anything they wanted dead. He had seen this once clear as day when he was hiding a few days back.

He moved a little closer behind the counter where she was hidden, and saw a grotesque sight. The half-eaten corpses of a mother, father, and... oh God. A baby boy. David gagged at the thought. They were all dead, with their blood soaking through the carpet lining the floor. David had assumed the awful stench to just be the rotting zombies outside, not some additional corpses within. Were these the bodies of her family? Is that why she was guarding them and... crying? He didn't know, and he doubted he could ask her personally. What he needed right now was a place to rest, and perhaps get something to eat. Maybe some of food was in the back area for the employees? He slowly creeped to the back room, that had sadly already been raided. Everything was out of order, and on the wall he could see some bright red grafitti...

"Don't startle the Witch..." He read before he pain shot through his body and he fell on the floor.

He tried to stand back up, but as soon as he tried he felt woozy. He hadn't lost much blood from the bite, and his bandage was working seemingly well. Why then did he feel so terrible? He must have eaten something strange. Yeah, that was it. Strange food... He just decided that he should go to sleep. He was exhausted after all. After a few minutes riddled with the grumbles of the zombies, he fell into a deep sleep...

A few hours later, David woke from his slumber, and for some reason, every joint on his entire body ached, and his head was throbbing in pain. He could barely move, and his bite wound was burning. Not like sunburn burning, like... tingling burning. He quickly leaned forward and peeled away his bandage, and found that the area around the gash had turned green. This was surely not healthy. Had his gash gotten infected? He had no idea, but if he left it untreated, he would more than likely die from it. He absolutely had to treat his arm, as soon as possible.

Momentarily, he tried standing, but quickly gave up. He just couldn't stay balenced, and his legs hurt when he stood. David had never been drunk, but figured he was about at that level of instability. Instead, he took to crawling, and as he neared the hallway exit, he saw his 'friend' had returned, only this time, she was right in his way, crying all the more. She had blocked the only path out. Consitering he was already unarmed, weak, and extremely outclassed by her and her inhumane strength, he crawled back into his little room and... cried. He had lost all hope of living any more. If he left, he would die. If he stayed and succumbed to the wound, he would die. There was no alternative. Fate had closed it's final doors, and left poor David in the dark, cold world with no escape. He didn't know where his family was. He didn't know where his friends were. He had no one. A few hours passed before he fell asleep again, balled up in the corner of his room like a little kitten.

Perhaps a whole day passed until he woke up, and now he felt even worse. His whole body felt numb, it still hurt, and he vomited what little food he had remaining in him out into one of the trash cans. His body started to become unresponsive, and he started to gain a high fever. He didn't even bother struggling as pain kept shooting through his body, all he did was fantasize about life before everything he had crumbled before him.

He had a simple life, with a plesant family. He always had a bit of a distaste towards them, but Hell, family is family, through the thick and the thin. He remembered his Dad, Larry, a tall muscular man who worked from the sweat of his brow on almost everything he did. He build David's old house up from a barn, under two gigantic oak trees. It was a fairly small house for five people, but it worked and they were all happy. His mother, Shelly, was a short but tough lady who always did her best at everything she tried, and lived life with few regrets. Tony, his older brother, was always sort of an ass towards David, but he knew he always cared for him. And his little sister, Ginna, she was always such a little princess, she was. 'Borrowing' David's things and losing them. But she was always so sweet, and caring. He loved all of them so much, even if he didn't say it much. And now... now he didn't even know if they were alive. He missed all of them so much, an now he was going to die. Alone. He weeped at the thought. He weeped until his poor dehydrated body couldn't take anymore. And then, a few hours later, he died.

It could have been a few hours, or a few days later until David awoke. He felt like he had just woken from a long and tiring nightmare, and checked to see where he was. He was still in the clothing store. Damn, it wasn't a dream... But, as he was scratching his head, he realized something wasn't right. The pain he had been feeling for days was gone! It was over! He almost jumped for joy at the though, but then it hit him. The pain was gone, but... oh God. What had happened to his hands?! They had gotten all long and sharp like... like the girl's! And his skin was unusually pale, even for his light-hating nerdy self, just like hers!

"Oh God..." He mumbled as he fell back in shock, "What have I become!?"

"'Bout time ye' get up." A voice said, "It sure took you a damn while."

"W-who are you!?" David shouted as he almost instictively raises his claws, "S-show yourself!"

"Relax..." Another voice coos as it turned the corner, revealing itself to be the girl from out front and some hooded friend of hers, "We're on the same team now."

The voices... they were infected. Just like him. There was a hooded fellow, he seemed remarkable similar to the zombie that was jumping around on the soldiers. And there was the girl from earlier, standing right in front of him. Where there more of them? David had no idea how to process this. What had happened to him? Were these people really his friends? Could he trust them? He had no idea what he should do, but he decided that, for the time being, he could at least explain themselves.

"A-alright..." He said to the two as he backed down, "I'll listen. Please, explain yourselves."

"Ah, good to see ye've come 'round!" The hooded fellow said, "Name's Stitch Patches."

"H-hello." The girl said as she tucks her hands behind her back and blushes a bit, "My name's Rebecca Fedderson."

"Hm. Nice to meet you both... even if the terms could have been a bit better." David says with a smirk, "The name's David. Whyvenyr."

"Hm. Nice to meet yeh, I suppose." Stich said as he leaned against the wall, "We figured we would come and give you a 'Hello,' before you started to panic after you took full scope of the changes to yer body."

"Yeah, I know." David said with a sigh, "I'm a zombie now, right?"

"Smart kid." Stitch said to Rebbecca, before turning back to face David, "You were bit. Rebbecca saw. That's what ended up killin' ye'. When I gots back here a day or two ago, I wanted t' kill ye'. Good eatin's hard to come by nowadays, especially with my different... 'tastes'. Heheheh..."

This set David off. This prick had planned to murder him? He couldn't take this sitting, not in the figurative or literal sence.

"Oi, you wanted to KILL me!?" David said as he jerked forward out of his seat and grabed Stitch by the jacket with one hand, and the other around his throut.

"I see yer' not nearly as weak as you were when you got 'ere..." Stitch said with trace amounts of intrigue in his voice before turning his head to Rebecca and yelling, "Rebecca! 'Ta the other room, with ye'! This could get messy."

Rebecca quickly took cue and ran out the door, Stitch seemed to be asking awfully kind to her... why? He didn't know. Right now he needed to deal with Stitch.

"No offence ment, man. A Hunter's got t' do what he's got to do to feed his lil' Witch, amirite?" Stitch said with a grin.

A Hunter. That's what the name of the type of special zombie Stitch was. He certainly looked different than the other zombies he had seen. He looked more fit, for one. And he had duck tape covering his wrists and pants. His nails had also been sharpened to a fine point as well. The regular zombies weren't smart enough to try something like that, taping their clothes or sharpening their nails. Hell, they didn't even seem capable of changing their clothes. Now that he got a good look at Stitch, he really did look remarkably similar to the zombie he had seen leaping around in the street after the soldiers. Perhaps he was the very same one? He didn't know, he didn't get a good enough look at it back then.

And a Witch... was that perhaps the name of Rebbecca's type? That would explain the grafitti on the wall. She must have been here a while, if that was the case then. She was certainly dangerous, if his assumption was correct. But wait, now that David thought about it, he a Witch now too, wasn't he? The changes that had occured to him had transformed him remarkably. His body had been almost entirely reshapen, almost to the point that he didn't recondnise himself. It was a remarkable thing, really. But that got him thinking, had his mind changed any either? Rebecca seemed so calm now, but earlier when she heard the gunshot the completely lost it and bolted out the door. He really wanted to know more about the changes that had occured to him, and Stitch seemed to know quie a bit. He wanted to ask him everything he could about the changes, so he decided let Stitch go and started to ask for him to explain all he knew.

"What do you know about the changes that occured to me?" David demanded as he tightened his grip, "Swear to tell me, and I'll let you go."

"Huh, I guess ye' finally figured it all out, eh?" He said with a large toothy grin, "It's all good, man. I promise."

"Alright... good." David said as he released Stitch and apologised, "Sorry man. I just... got a little angry.

"It's okay." Stitch said as he brushed the dirt off his hoodie, "Bein' a Witch... err, Warlock, in yer' case, ye' tend to have a real bad temper."

"Well that explains it, I suppose." David said with a small sigh.

"Anyways, follow me." Stitch said as he motioned towards the door, "I's gots sumptin' that outta cheer ye' right up."

David cautiously followed Stitch's lead as he went to the front room, where he saw something that made him jump right well.

A corpse. Right in front of him, with Rebecca already eating it. It revolted him, it did. But for some reason, he felt sumething itching deep inside him. He couldn't place it for a moment, but quickly found it was... hunger. His stomach was driving him to join her. It was driving him to want to feast on the flesh on one of his fellow man. He tried to resist. He couldn't allow himself to indulge in something like this, even if his body would rebel in protest, he couldn't... He just couldn't.

Stitch quickly took scope of David with his mixed expression, and took a moment to talk to him.

"Look man, I know as a human, you'd never do sumptin' like 'dis. Rebecca told me 'bout the shit ye'd talk 'bout in yer' dreams. You clearly loved yer' family quite a bit. But that was in the past, and the times have changed. These days man, it ain't 'bout what ye would have done, it's 'bout what you will do right now." Stitch explained as he sat down next to Rebecca while she was eating, "All you need to do right now is eat. Trust me bud, I've seen good infected go crazy from trying t' diet 'way from human meat. Our bodies need... sumptin' 'er other from it, I just don't know what it is. If you refuse to eat, then you'll slowly 'n painfully die. And that, my friend, is certain."

David took in the words slowly and carefully. Would he really die if he refused to eat? This situation was a do-or-die one indeed. If he refused, according to Stitch, he would die without question. If he died, he would have no chance to find his family, a safe place to live, anything. He would lose everything. But if he ate, he would have to destroy the little remaining humanity he had left inside his cold, twisted body. And you know what? He didn't care. He had finally found friends, at the end of the damned world, and finally realized that he wasn't looking for his family just for the sake of it. No, rather he was looking for companions to ease the crushing loneliness he had felt lying on him since the fall of mankind. So in that spirit of casting the past away, he dug into the corpse and began eating his fill. At some point Stitch joined in too, and a few hours later, each of them had eaten their fill and were satisfied. The meal was messy, to say the least, but the meat was strangely filling, and the combined eating power of the three reduced the corpse to almost a skeleton. It was like getting a fix for a drug, or something like that. And once they were each finished eating, Rebecca was the first to speak up.

"You sure caught one good meal, Stitch." Rebecca said with a smile, "Good job."

"Ah, you guys..." Stitch said while he started picking gunk out of his teeth, "I'm just yer' average Hunter. Rebecca, could you be a doll and throw away the scraps?"

"Sure." She said in response, and began dragging the skeleton away.

"Now that we've got a moment free..." David said as he was wiping off his hands with one of the many cheap shirts laying around, "What did you mean earlier when you said you intended to kill me?"

"What I meant?" Stitch said before leaning forward with a very serious look on his face, "Simple, friend. I intended to kill ye', and eat 'cha. Corpses are very tough to find in the city, y'see."

"He nearly did it, too." Rebecca chimed shortly later, having finished trowing away the corpse, "Killed you, I mean. I was the one who stopped him. I saw you get bit, and we knew you would turn eventually if I gave you the chance. In all honesty, I kinda felt... well, bad for you. You were all alone, and so desperately clinging to the remnants life you had left. You were just one kid, who managed to run across the entire city, constantly being pursued by zombies. So instead of doing away with the efforts you had made to escape, I decided to finally give you the freedom you oh so desperately wanted by letting you turn, and guarded you until the infection took you. The common zombies aren't too smart, but they know enough to stay away from me. On reflection, I honestly had no motive to save you. I just felt that it was the right thing to do."

Finally he had heard the truth. Rebecca had known where he was the whole time. She could have easily slipped into the back room while he was unconchious and cut him to ribbons, but she didn't. She decided to save him instead. For a mere stranger, no less. The full weight of her actions hit David like a brick wall, and he couldn't help but crying. She was his savior, and he was... forever in her debt.

"T-thank you... so mu-uch..." David gurgled as he started to cry like a baby, "I c-can never re-repay this debt. Thank-k yo-ou..."

"O-oh!" was all Rebecca could say in response to David, "It was no problem..."

"Man... you can't cry! You're a man now, you have to act strong in front of women." Stitch said before he saw the almost pained look on David's crying face, before he added, "What you do behind closed doors, though, is your own business."

"A-alr-right..." David said as he bit his lip and wiped his eyes clean, "I-i'll *ahem* be sure to rememer that."

"Tomorrow, we can start trainin'." Stitch said as he leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head and looked at the cealing, "I's knows a lot more 'bout bein' a zombie than ye'. Heh, I guess I'm yer' elder then, eh?"

"Wait, training?" David said in surprise, "I wanted you to explain what happened to me, not... train me. What would you even train me for?"

"To be a Warlock, duh." Stitch said sarcastically, "It's a lot easier t' 'xplain what happened t' ye' physically rather than verbally, so we'll start as soon as we can. Then you can decide what to do from there."

"Oh." David said, understanding of what Stitch ment, "Thanks, then. I'll be sure to sleep well. 'Night Stitch."

"'Night..." Stitch mumbled as he drifted off to sleep.

As he was leaving, however, he quickly turned back around and greeted Rebecca before going to bed.

"Ah, that's right." David said before gesturing a small bow to Rebecca, "Good night, Ma'am."

"Heehee..." Rebecca giggled before jokingly mirroring David's bow, "Good night to you too, David."

David walked to the small room in the back that he had hid in for the past day or so, and saw a small sleeping bag and pillow laid out for him, along with a small lamp on the floor to light up the room. Did Rebecca do this for him? How kind of her, he thought. The room seemed much more welcoming now that he didn't have to worry about being killed in his sleep, and that got him thinking as he snuggled into the bag, was him being a zombie actually a blessing? The other zombies were afraid to even be near Rebecca, certainly they would leave him alone too, right? He might actually be able to finally find his family, still. And his friends... he could find everyone... Shortly later he drifted off to perhaps the deepest sleep of his life.

The next morning he woke drowsilly to see Stitch leaning over him as he sleeped with a rather annoyed expression, with a small ball of clothen in his hand.

"'Bout time ye' woke up!" Stitch shouted as he threw some clothes at David, "Get dressed, it's huntin' time!"

"Whaddaya... mean...?" David said as he yawned and pulled up his pants, "I... *yawn*... thought we were training..?"

"We are." Stitch said with a grim smile, "The humans normally move in the morning t' get the most of the day. Ye'r gon' t' kill one."

"W-what!?" David shouted and dropped his pants, "I-i could never! I-i c-could barely eat a already deceased corpse, God forbid I try killing one..."

"Look, man, these are skills ye'll need moving forwards." Stitch said with a glare, "Ye have t' learn how to do this, otherwise you'll die. Now c'mon, we's gots t' move."

A few minutes later, David emerged ready to move. He was wearing some cheap cargo shorts straight off the store's shelf, a backpack that was in bad disrepair, some millitary-grade boots from one of the soldiers that had propably been been eaten, and a sweat-stained wifebeater, resumably from Stitch's old things. He was ready as he was ever going to be to kill someone. As he was on the way out with Stitch, however, he ran into Rebecca again and greeted her.

"Good morning, Ma'am." David said to Rebecca, "Need anything while we're out?"

"I suppose..." Rebecca said as she thought, "We need some clean drinking water to drink while we eat."

"It's done." David responded as he stood straight again, "We'll be back shortly, Ma'am. Stay safe."

As David and Stitch were walking out into the street, he started getting rather worried. These infected, that had served as a hinderance to him all throughout his short time as a survivor, were they really his allies now? What if, for some reason or another, they attacked him even now? David broke out in a cold sweat just before the door, grabbing Stitch arm and asking- nearly begging him for an answer.

"S-stitch..." David said as he grabbed Stitch's arm, "W-what i-if the z-zombies at-tack me?"

"You mean as an infected?" Stitch said, seemingly never having consitered the situation himself, "Well... Huh. I've actually never thought about that-"

"S-so it's still possible!?" David interjects as he runs away from the door and hides behind the counter, "I-i knew it!"

"-Or it could just be because it's completely crazy!" Stitch shouts in frustration, "I've never- in all my time being infected- heard of common infected trying to fight a special, or even one-another! They're just too stupid!"

"So... what, then?!" David said after coming out from behind the counter, "I'm just supposed to run that risk? You can't honestly expect me to-"

*Slap*

"David, you're being completely paranoid!" Rebecca said after slapping David, "Is life nothing but a gigantic risk, especially in these darker times?! You have to take that risk sometimes! You can't live in absolute safety in life, sometimes you have to go out into the world, sometimes you have to live!"

David had been consumed by his own paranoia. All his fears of the zombie menace, all his doubts of his own survival had caught him off guard. He didn't know if he would survive the night just a mere day or two ago, if he'd survive the week, he didn't know much of anything back then. All he knew was that he had to keep living, he knew he had to try!

"I... I'm sorry." David said shaking his head and regaining his grip on reality, "My paranoia got the better of me. I just... really don't want to die, especially not now, now that I have favors that need repaying. Sorry."

"Now..." Stitch says as he almost starts dragging David to the doorway, "Are we finished being all mushy-gushy and are ready to go out and train? Or should we wait for you to have another mental breakdown?"

"Alright..." David said with a tense sigh, "Let's go."

As David walked out into the street, he was on edge. He had no idea what would happen once the infected noticed him. He raised his claws, and was prepared to fight at any moment. A few infected noticed David and Stitch walking out, and took a moment from whatever they were doing to stare at them. Sweat started running down David's face. Would he have to fight them like he thought? After giving the two a solid look though, they silently returned to whatever they were doing and David felt at ease.

"It's a nice day." Stitch said as he sat on the hood of one of the many abandoned cars and streached, "Say, David."

"Hm?" David said in response to Stitch after having calmed down.

"Are you ready to start?" Stitch says as he slid off the car and, for some reason or another, started squatting on the ground, "'Cause I am. Try to keep up!"

Suddenly, Stitch started moving. After letting out a roar or something mere moments before taking off, he began bounding off the nearby buildings, quickly gaining distance to David. Following the instructions Stitch gave him though, David began sprinting after Stitch. The first thing he found as he chaced in pursuit of Stitch was that he was far, FAR faster than his old self, being able to run just barely slower than Stitch. As he continued to run, he started thinking about what Stitch had said the other day. Was this what Stich ment when he said it was easier to show him the changes that had occured to him rather than trying to say it? As they came to an exhausted stop somewhere on the interstate several miles away from the store, David finally understood what Stitch ment.

"What... scared... of losing..?" David said jokingly between breathes.

"Not a... chance..!" Stitch said as he leaned up against the nearby borders of the bridge and started drinking some water, "But... we made it to where... I wanted to... take us."

"What..?" David said as he started to regain his breath, "What do you mean..? Is here... important?"

"Yeah..." Stitch said as he threw his water bottle on the ground, "Right below us is a certain... gathering, of infected."

Stitch quickly took a servey of the surrounding area, almost precautiously so, and slowly lead David over to a small manhole. The manhole looked rather normal, with the one obvious thing about it being the marking sprayed on it. The marking seemed to be of two boxes overlaping, with the spot overlapped being shaded in red. David honestly had no idea if the simbol held any importance, however it certainly intrigued him. After a moment of thought on David's part, and a moment of strain on Stitch's, the manhole was removed and Stitch began decending into the sewers, with David following quickly...

=To Be Continued...=