He had been an outcast, once.

When the world stood tall, humanity at its brightest before the fall. He had been a thief and a liar and an all about scoundrel. Phantom, he called himself, because phantom he was. A man who would never be noticed. History books would forget about him.

It was no matter, now. Society no longer cared for what he had been. The world had been born anew in its own ashes.

Kerning City was no different than the last few cities Phantom had been to. Buildings that once stood tall, now were crumbling. Broken glass littered the streets, no longer protecting the dark eyes to the houses. Cars were parked haphazardly in various different places, their owners long forgotten. The air was hot, muggy and it was difficult to see through the haze surrounding him.

In brick alleyways Phantom could see old styrofoam coffee cups and beer bottles, bottles marked Fusion Bar. Further down he could see the old stubs of could almost bring a cynical laugh from Phantom's lips, because this was a remembrance of humanity. Caffeine addicts, drunkards and smokers. What a lovely image that would paint of what they once were.

The moon hung low overhead, tinted blood orange with old city fumes. It lit the way, partially, but Phantom, who was walking the streets, had no need of it, due to his excellent night vision.

Phantom, echoed in his mind wearily,as he slumped against a wall, cautiously surveying his surroundings, my name is Phantom.

There was no one else to remind him anymore. It was up to himself to stay sane.

Phantom still remembered when it had all began. The shortouts. The panicking people on TV, saying that everyone needed to evacuate, but that couldn't be true, could it? Because everything on the television stayed on the television, it never happened to Phantom.

Or so he had thought.

Phantom still remembered when it had all began. The Rot, they called it. Because disgustingly enough, that was what it looked like. The blond would never be able to get the images out of his head, those of bloodshot eyes and Rotting flesh, of torn skin and the revealing of muscle beneath. Their blood didn't drip, it oozed, black and dead, just like them. And the smell- it often preceded them, a smell so bad the first time he had ever encountered it, it had left Phantom vomiting. It was pungent and horrid, the smell of death and dying.

Phantom had watched so many people become those things. One bite was all it took- the Rot was communicable through saliva. Yet...

Strangely enough, Phantom had found that he was immune. He had been bitten before, and nothing had happened.

Phantom wrapped his arms around himself, tipping his head back against the worn building he leaned against. He was so, so tired. All that was left anymore was to survive. He could no longer live. Not without Aria.

Aria. The gods damned Rotters had taken her from him. He had watched, unable to tear his eyes away as she fell into a coma for several days, her body beginning to decompose, before she awoke as a murderer. The caterpillar metamorphosing into an oh so beautiful butterfly. Fucking hell.

Phantom had ran away like a coward instead of putting her out of her misery.

With a sigh, Phantom stared up at the night sky, too exhausted to even shed any tears. It was difficult to sleep when any moment, you could be awakened by a Rotter's ugly mug.

But nonetheless, Phantom found himself dozing off, his eyes slipping shut.

Just for a moment... Just... A moment... Then I'll get up.

Bang.

Sharp, searing pain that had Phantom gasping and arching his back, clutching at his shoulder and biting his lip, his face white as a sheet.

Gods, what...? Did the damned things use guns now? Phantom doubled over, feeling wetness from his arm staining his hands red. The world spun.

"Fuck, you idiot. That's a human!" A gruff voice barked off in the distance, pity tingeing it. "It's too late now. They're coming."

Phantom's eyes widened and he snapped his head back upwards. Sure enough, the Rotters were gathering around him, drawn by the scent of his blood.

He was surrounded. And there was no way he could push himself up to stand with the bullet wound in his arm.

Besides, there was no use. They would catch him if he tried to run.

Phantom's eyes narrowed. Was this it...?

They drew closer and closer, their rotting hands reaching for him, their faces ugly and leering. Phantom shuddered at the stench invading his nostrils and he thought this is going to hurt, isn't it?

His breath coming quick, the blond clenched his eyes shut.

...

Nothing happened.

A loud growling noise. Running footsteps on the brick ground. Phantom tentatively opened his eyes. All of the Rotters were gone, leaving behind drip drops of dead blood and traces of discolored flesh on the ground below.

Standing in front of him was... A human. No. Not a human. There was an inhuman aura about him. Yet this person was far too intact to be a Rotter. His face was deathly pale, framed by auburn strands of hair. Blue eyes gently narrowed at Phantom as he glanced over his shoulder at the man.

And slowly, the corpse-like man approached Phantom. Each step could be a death sentence. He knelt in front of the blond and leaned in, causing Phantom to note in some corner of his mind that his scent was that of cinnamon, and fit his cheek against the crook of his neck to suck on a bloody shoulder.

Phantom's head hit the wall behind him as he bit his lip, stifling a grunt of pain. "Wh-what...?" He choked out softly.

The other man lapped at the bullet wound, his cold tongue laving the bloody mess.

Lost in a confusing haze of pain and exhaustion, Phantom promptly passed out.

It dimly registered in Phantom's mind that he was not where he had fallen unconscious. A suspiciously unstable looking roof loomed overhead. Wherever he was, it was marked by dim, flickering blue lights and the overwhelming, putrid smell of beer, piss and vomit.

Fusion Bar, read the electric blue lights. Or rather, Fus n B, as many letters were completely dead.

Phantom could see that he was in a back room to this apparent bar, since he was in a small room with a door off to the side. He was resting on a bed with torn sheets, marked with, to his disgust, beer, piss, vomit and what he hoped wasn't come.

That man. Phantom remembered and jerked upwards, only to fall back down with a soft cry of pain, his fingers curling against his shoulder helplessly as his bullet wound reopened. To his surprise, there were bandages against his fingers- he glanced down, and surely enough his shoulder was bandaged in white, with red spreading across.

The blond tensed as the door creaked open on its rusty hinges, bracing himself and glancing hurriedly about the room's torn and stained wallpapers to look for an escape route. There was none.

"You're awake?" A deep voice cut through the semi darkness. Phantom saw the man from earlier step through the doorway. They observed each other warily.

"No shit, Sherlock," Phantom answered bitingly. To his surprise, the response he was met with was that of laughter, rather than disamusement and a pointy thing to the neck.

"How's your arm?"

"Violated," The blond made a face, remembering the way his tongue had licked away at his shoulder.

"I was hungry," At least the man... Thing... Had the decency to look sheepish.

"You're not human. You're not one of them, either. What are you?"

The redhead looked away. "I don't know."

Phantom's eyes narrowed. "Bullshit."

It was strange to talk to someone again. Phantom had wandered different cities for so long, since Aria's death, yet he had never encountered anyone else, until recently. The blond's voice felt rusty and sore from disuse.

"It's the truth," He ran his fingers through his mussed strands of hair frustratedly, before walking closer to Phantom to sit on the edge of the worn bed. "I'm... An experiment, I suppose."

"An experiment?" Phantom echoed.

"You didn't think that the government made no attempt to fight back the Rot, did you? They killed one of the Rotters and experimented with the DNA of it. I was the result."

"But you're not mindless like they are."

"Yes, well," He murmured bitterly, "I suppose I still inherited their fine dining habits."

Phantom's eyes fell shut for a moment. This was... A lot to take in, suddenly.

"Then why aren't there more like you? Why hasn't this epidemic been stopped?"

"The scientists working on that project were overcome. I couldn't save them. I managed to escape." The redhead looked down at his hands. "My name is Freud."

"Freud," Phantom echoed, arching a brow. "Like... Sigmund Freud?"

"Yes, well," Freud's depressed demeanor was overcome by a wry one. "I suppose it is spelled the same way."

Phantom didn't ask whether he had named himself, or the scientists had named him. He could be tactful when he needed to be. However, he made a mental note that, were he to continue on being in the company of this man born of an experiment, he would make snarky comments about mommy issues.

"I'm Phantom," The blonde offered after a moment's silence.

"Phantom," Freud playfully echoed in return. "That isn't even a proper name, Mister Adjective."

There was a peaceful quiet for a while after that, both lost in their own thoughts. Phantom was almost afraid to break it.

"So, what now?" Painstakingly, Phantom dragged himself into an upright position, leaning his head back against the grungy wall and closing his eyes.

"Will you be fine on your own?"

The words caused a hitch in Phantom's breathing. He froze, then shot upwards, ignoring the overwhelming pain. "Don't leave me alone...!"

Freud blinked at him, confused, before understanding registered in his eyes.

"Sorry. Sorry. I just..." Phantom grit his teeth, his uninjured arm coming up so his hand could fist in his hair in frustration and embarrassment of his outburst.

The blonde just couldn't stand it anymore. The constant silence. Only Aria's voice in his mind to keep him company. The thoughts, Gods, the thoughts that he should just let them take him because maybe death was better than this.

Freud's deep blue eyes softened and he tentatively reached out to place a hand on the thin, off white blanket above Phantom's knee.

"I'll stay. I could use a companion."

Little did Phantom know that this would mark the beginning of a long and wonderful adventure.