A petite, brunette Hunter lay curled up in the corner of a dark alley, chewing hard on her pointed claws. She had been infected only recently… And it had been by her own best friend, none-the-less. Though it had been their plan, the transformation was actually a horribly painful process, though, really, she had gained so many amazing abilities, it was almost worth changing into a zombie. A Special.

Almost worth it. There were a few aspects of life as a zombie that she couldn't quite get over just yet…

Sitting up immediately to the familiar smell of her blond male counterpart, the small Hunter looked almost like a dog as she waited to hear the tell-tale coughing of the Smoker, and only when it came did she fully relax into a comfortable sitting position. Though her sense of smell had increased ten-fold, the infected all had quite a similar scent, and it was still incredibly hard to pick out an ally in a crowd of others. Thankfully, her confidant had a bit of a wheeze to his cough, distinguishing him from the other Smokers when he made the noise.

Carefully reaching out for her with his somewhat normal arm, the male Smoker touched her shoulder in greeting, glad that his friend could not see his sickeningly dark, deformed body. It was best that she remember what he looked like while still a human, anyway… When he had infected her, it had been from behind to avoid being seen like he was, but the Hunter could still feel. She wasn't an idiot. She was just kind to his new appearance. It was appreciated. The Hunter let out a small purring noise in greeting, nuzzling her friend's hand with her blueish-grey cheek. The Smoker sighed, sitting down next to her, slumping in his ripped Knuckles jacket. She was always happy to see him, no matter what she knew was coming next, and no matter how weak she became.

The young male infected pulled the Hunter to him, tucking the small girl into his arms as she tugged the strings on her dirty white hoodie to bring the fabric tight over her empty, clawed out eye sockets. Her stomach growled angrily, making the girl let out a high pitched cry of pain. She had not eaten anything but old garbage since she had turned a month ago, and she simply refused to feast on any sort of human flesh. It was the only thing keeping her tied to her previous life, and she had been stubborn as hell to not let it go. The Smoker had already accepted his fate, and had been eating 'normally' just a few days after his own infection. But now, he had been attempting to keep his weakening friend alive and well as he continued to struggle with his own morals, but if she wouldn't eat anything, his efforts were all for naught.

Frowning a bit as he pulled a rotting limb toward the two of them, he tilted the Hunter's chin up to look at her, her brilliantly white teeth only proving that she hadn't eaten a single human yet. Clean, like an unstained virgin of some sort. Normally, she would have put up quite the fight and wriggled away, knowing that the Smoker would try and feed her, but tonight, she held still. Only more proof that she had grown weak enough to be considered prey herself.

She might actually have to give in.

Coughing a bit as he tore off a piece of the flesh from the rotting leg with his claws, the taller boy pressed the horrible bit of meat to the Hunter's lips, hoping that she would eat it. She hadn't struggled away yet... Tonight could really be the night. For a solid minute, the infected boy kept the bloody piece of muscle against her lips, earning nothing but a small, pined hiss. Just as he was about to give up, however, the Hunter parted her lips just wide enough to allow the small bite into her mouth, her face screwed up in a mix of horror and anguish. The Smoker's single eye widened in amazement from the small action, and he took the opportunity to press the rotten meat into her mouth, earning yet another disgusted mewl as she tried her hardest not to think about what exactly she was eating. But her mind couldn't help her wonder. Was this a man's leg? Had he been a strong father for his wife and kids? Did he bike on occasion? Maybe he worked out to balance out his secret Big Mac every Wednesday after work…

Before she knew it, another piece of flesh was between her teeth, and she was chewing it willingly.

Or perhaps this was the loving arm of a mother? A lonely, single mother that held her children close at night when there were 'monsters' under their beds, even though she had her own monsters to worry about every day she rose from the bed that was made for more than just her.

But no. Here were the real monsters. These flesh-eaters were not made from fairy-tales, or financial distress. No, they were made from nightmares and darkest fears. The female Hunter clambered over her relieved Smoker friend in order to pull the leg straight to her mouth, the hunger having been ignited like a grease fire in her concave, empty belly.

This was neither a strong father, nor a single, lonely mother… This leg belonged to a child. A small, helpless child. A child whose dreams were to someday be a star baseball player, and to be able to fly high above the clouds on a magic carpet. A child who believed in cooties and dragons, all in the same.

The Hunter couldn't stop. She was starving. She had never been so hungry in her goddamn life.

This child had once gone on adventures to a castle in a far-away land to rescue a princess with the aid of imagination.

She was down to bone, now.

Monsters like her had ended this life prematurely in order to survive.

A terrified screech left the Hunter's lips as she scrambled to find more food.

This child never grew up.

The now worried Smoker had to restrain his friend with both his arms and tongue. Her white jacket was dirty and stained with the child's blood as she writhed, pinned on her back to the grimy cement. The Hunter had lost that pure essence that she had held so dear. The tall boy watched her as she struggled still, making those terrifying animalistic wails, scaring off any nearby survivor.

All for one,—

The younger male pressed himself tight to her body, the squirming dying down with her shuddering cries. He knew what she must be going through. The blond had gone through the absolute regret when he had attacked and killed his first meal, and it had been the most painful point in his existence as both a human and the undead. He was alone when it had happened. He was going to make sure that his darling Hunter was not going to experience this by herself.

—And one for none.

Slowly, the Smoker released the Hunter from the wrap of his tongue, pressing his cheek close to own blood-slicked one, trying his hardest to assure her that everything would be okay. And though neither of them knew how to speak the dreaded language of the Specials, there was an understanding between the two of them that rang truer than any spoken word.

'I will stay with you.'

Ever so slowly, The Hunter stilled underneath her friend and let out a weak purr, carefully lacing her sharp fingers with his. The Smoker couldn't help but smile softly at her returned nuzzle, responding quite well to his reassurance.

They might have been monsters, yes, but the special bond they shared made them more human than the rest of the world. Having had her arms released, the female pressed her finger to the boy's chest, then her own, before curling her hands into fists, and bringing the heels of her palms together to move them in a circle away from her chest. The young Smoker smiled and repeated her actions. Sign language.

"You and me, together forever."