It was quiet. Ridiculously quiet for a large city at the early hours of the morning.
No cars were moving. No lights were on in the buildings. There were no planes overhead. No sounds of machinery working on something it was programmed to do.
The city was dead.
It's people were nearly all dead.
And the ones who weren't dead, would be soon.
A shop window suddenly shattered, the sound exploding into the heavy air of silence like a gunshot, a young man jumping out of the window, tumbling across the glass-littered pavement before launching to his feet and tearing down the deserted street.
His golden hair was almost the only piece of colour on his person; he was wrapped in black, tattered linen that had been wrapped and sewn hurriedly into the basic shape of clothing and covered everything except his head, the material bunched around his neck; his skin was a sickly pale colour, blackness around his eyes and tainting his lips; his eyes a piercing, inhuman blue, a hint of green around the pupil.
He was well-built. He would've seemed attractive if it weren't for the scars littering what could be seen of his flesh and the emptiness of his eyes.
The man tore down the street, his foot-falls strangely silent, even his breaths were muted as he glanced his inhuman eyes behind himself, before he leaped over a pile of old, rotting garbage cans and into dark alleyway.
Flattening himself against the alley wall enveloped in shadow, the man's eyes were fixed on the street. A street-light flickered a little way away.
He stayed like that for a while. Hiding. Perfectly invisible in the shadow.
Finally, he took a tentative step from his hiding place, strange eyes snapping in all directions around the still-empty street.
The edge of his blackened lips twitched upward. He'd won. He was safe again.
click
He's looking over his shoulder so suddenly a shot of pain snaps through his neck.
Standing there, halfway down the alleyway he'd been hiding in –and still stood in the mouth of– was Him. The one he'd been hiding from.
He pulled the trigger.
The blond barely ducked in time, the air around the bullet snapping at the fabric around his neck, ruffling his hair and biting at his skin. Without a pause, the blond launched himself out of the alleyway and tore down the street once more, breaths coming in harsh pants, blood leaking from his face where the bullet had barely passed.
The man stepped out of the alleyway fluidly and rose his gun again, sharp eyes narrowing, before pulling the trigger.
BANG
The bullet slammed into the blond's shoulder, making the top-half of his body immediately shoot forward and buckle, blood flying through the air, the momentum of the tiny piece of metal making him loose his footing and slam onto the rough road, tumbling slightly, letting out a scream of agony into the silent, dead air.
It was mere seconds before the one with the gun was towering over the blond, gun risen, and pointed directly in between the blond's eyes.
A street-light flickered to life mere metres away from them.
The standing male was wrapped in tattered furs and dark material, seemingly tied to his person with belts or lengths of the same material, covering everything except his hands and his head; his skin a slightly healthier pale colour than the other male's, but littered with scars, a very noticeable one being the one that was between his eyes; his hair long, and an earthy brown and his eyes a piercing grey-blue. He was handsome, but frightening at the same time.
The blond one gasped as he lay there on the ground, blood smeared over the side of his face and a pool of that very same liquid spreading across the rough pavement behind him from the bullet-wound in his shoulder. Wide blue eyes stared up at the brunet towering over him, hands up to his chest, motionless.
The picture of helplessness.
Grey-blue eyes narrowed and the brunet's lips thinned, his finger tightening on the trigger of his gun, aimed fixedly between those wide, inhuman blue eyes.
"Le..." breathed the blond.
Something flickered behind those grey-blue eyes, and the finger on the trigger hesitated for a mere half a second.
That's all he needed.
Suddenly, the blond's deathly-pale face was contorted into a feral grin, mouth spreading wider than it should, filled with hundreds of needle-thin, long, razor-sharp teeth, his pupils contracting into cat-like slits.
And suddenly the gun was thrown out of the brunet's hand as the blond's own hand slapped it away with inhuman strength, a shot of pain shooting through the brunet's wrist, the weapon clattering half-way down the street.
Before the brunet could even react in the slightest, the blond creature was on it's feet and had snatched hold of his front, whipping him around and throwing him at a shop window, the sound of shattering glass once more tearing through the dead air.
The brunet choked in a breath, laying, sprawled on the floor of the shop, his breath having been slammed out of him, glass littering the concrete floor around him, cuts peppering his face and hands from the slivers of those clear shards.
crunch
Grey-blue eyes snap to the window to see the blond creature climbing through the broken window, face still a feral and disgusting mimicry of 'normal', needle-like teeth glimmering mockingly in the sparse lighting.
Without a thought, the brunet's hand flew down to his leg and suddenly he had another gun pointed at the creature and immediately pulled the trigger once more.
The window was suddenly gone and the brunet staggered to his feet with a pained gasp, his gun still raised, pointed at the street; for the window and the wall it'd been attached to had been blown away, smoke and dust clinging thickly to the dead air.
His boots crunched against the rubble at his feet and he continued slowly and carefully forward, grey-blue eyes snapping in all directions in the cloud of dust he stood in. The air was dead, but tense. It couldn't be that easy. It was never that easy.
Something shifted in the cloud of dust and the brunet was immediately pointing his gun at it, grey-blue eyes sharp and fixed.
The dust started to clear, and he could almost see a silhouette of something. A rock? A--
Suddenly, the blond creature launched at him and claws sank into his chest, the trigger of his gun being pulled for the second time.
Dual screams of agony tore through that dead air.
A sound that dead air has heard again and again.
The dust cleared completely, and there the two of them were.
The brunet was sprawled on his back, hand with the gun raised, other hand pinned behind his back. The blond creature was straddling his stomach, one hand gripping the fist with the gun painfully tightly from where it was pointing at his ribcage, the blond's other hand dug up to the knuckles in the brunet's chest, fingers lodged in his lung, blood seeping around his digits.
The brunet stared up at the blond creature, grey-blue eyes meeting cat-like blue-green ones.
A stream of blood slid between needle-like teeth and trickled down the blond's chin, dripping onto the other male's chest, and the brunet lowered his eyes to what his gun was pointing at.
Half of the creature's ribcage was gone. Almost his whole left lung was just... gone; the gore and blood and bone and organs easily seen from where the brunet lay, blood streaming from the terrible circular wound that spanned from the creature's armpit to his hip, but leaving his spine in tact.
More blood splattered onto the brunet's chest and his grey-blue eyes snapped up to those cat-like eyes once more.
That wide mouth filled with needle-like teeth grimaced as the heavy river of blood did not slow as it pooled around the two males, soaking into both of their clothing. Then, suddenly, those eyes burnt, and the fist curled around the brunet's hand and gun tightened it's grip painfully hard.
The brunet let out a sharp gasp, bones straining, before, suddenly, the gun shattered in his grip. The creature forced the other male's hand close around the razor-sharp shards of the useless weapon, imbedding them deeply into his flesh, and another scream filled the dead air.
The brunet gasped for breath as his whole hand was enveloped in agony, streaming blood onto the pavement and the red liquid soaking into his tattered clothing.
Suddenly, the creature shifted above him, and his grey-blue eyes were suddenly fixed up on those blue-green, cat-like orbs. The creature smiled at him. A sweet smile. Filled with bloody, needle-like teeth.
Those fingers embedded in the brunet's lung suddenly slashed at his insides.
Blood immediately exploded out of his mouth, peppering the creature's face and splashing down his chin and neck like a waterfall of red, his eyes wide in horror.
The creature smiled above him and wrenched it's fingers from his lung, more blood flying from his mouth. The brunet was motionless on the ground in shock and agony, mouth agape and coated in his own gore, pupils contracted into pinpricks.
The blond creature let out a snarl of glee into the dead air, bloody hands held above the other man, disgusting claws coated in matted flesh.
Then, the creature slashed down. Again and again.
The scream was continuous.
Finally, the creature began to play with it's prey and threw it far across the road. The brunet slammed bodily against the ground quite a few metres away from the creature and rolled to a stop, twitching. He was littered with gashes that spewed pure red onto the rough pavement so that his whole body looked scarlet. His clothing was barely being held on by ripped belts and treads, his torso and arms nearly completely bare.
He lay there, grey-blue eyes misty and fogged in agony. All the wounds had been inflicted so quickly-- he had no time to bleed to death. Blood spewed from his wounds, now, and more streamed from his lips as he stared, unfocused, at the gravel before him.
The creature was walking toward him. The blond was not phased at his own lack of a lung. Blood loss. Nothing.
There was a glint in the corner of the brunet's eye and something in the back of his head screamed at him to force himself to focus his eyes on it.
His gun glinted at him from by his foot.
The gun that'd been torn from his grip.
His gun.
The creature's steps faltered at the sight of it's prey actually moving and it's cat-like eyes widened at the sight of the gun glimmering in the man's blood-soaked grip.
The brunet lay there, sprawled on his side, arm holding the gun against the ground, both foggy eyes fixed purely on the creature standing there, frozen.
BANG
The creature screamed and collapsed, clutching the bloody stump where it's foot had been, cat-like eyes snapping back up to it's attacking prey. The trigger was pulled again and again, the sound exploding through the dead air a split second before another scream from the creature.
The brunet heaved himself to his hands and knees, muscles shrieking. Finally, he staggered to his feet purely from will-power and stumbled unevenly over to the creature. His gun, smeared with his blood, was pointed between the creatures eyes once more, his hand trembling.
Finally, they were back in that position again. The blond sprawled against the ground, the brunet towering over him with a gun pointed to his forehead.
"You wouldn't kill me..." breathed the blond, still alive. Always alive. His blue-green eyes staring up at the grey-blue ones staring down at him, face emotionless. "Would you, Leon?"
Leon didn't falter, but he didn't pull the trigger, either. His muscles were shrieking. He could barely stand. He forced his hand to steady.
"Buddy?" continued the blond.
"You're not my 'buddy' anymore," croaked Leon, staring down at the blond male, all emotion locked back behind those foggy grey-blue eyes. "You stopped being Cloud after they Infected you."
The creature once known as Cloud smiled up at Leon. A sweet smile. A smile that made the brunet stop breathing.
Suddenly, the creature's mouth snapped open and something flew out-- and that was the split second Leon squeezed his eyes closed and pulled the trigger.
The dead air swallowed the sound of the gunshot.
Leon's eyes fluttered open again and he collapsed to his knees.
Cloud lay there, forehead blown apart, bits of brain, blood and bone all over the pavement behind him, mouth almost closed, eyes half-open and dead, the inhuman blue now hollow and gone.
The brunet choked, staring down at the blood-smeared gun in his hand, before all he could do was watch it drop from his trembling fingers.
His hand came up to touch his throat, where a perfect, needle-like dart was imbedded, having been shot out of the creature's own, and into his. It was poisonous. Leon knew it was. He could already tell his feet were numb.
The male struggled to crawl over to the dead one's side, body jerking and twitching, blood slowing its steady flow from his body. Grey-blue eyes stared down at the other male's calm, bloody face and Leon rose his hand to cup the blond's still-warm flesh.
He couldn't feel Cloud's skin. His hands were numb.
Leon wished he could cry.
His sight was blackening around the edges. His legs were completely numb. He could barely smell the stench of blood anymore.
Foggy eyes stared down at the blood splattered behind the blond's corpse on the gravel, and the brunet's reflection glimmered back at him from the black liquid.
With numb, shaking limbs, Leon curled his arms around Cloud's neck, pressing his senseless, trembling lips against the blond's cheek, just under one of those hollow eyes.
Why did this have to happen?
Leon buried his face against Cloud's neck and squeezed his eyes closed, arms tightening around the corpse.
I loved you. Far more than you knew. You were like a brother to me.
Leon breathed his last against Cloud's neck, and a single drop of blood caught at the edge of his eye, slithering down his cheek like a heartfelt tear.
I'm so sorry I couldn't save you.
((END. I actually made myself a little weepy writing the end of this. I was laying on my bed last night, and this suddenly started playing itself in front of my eyes, and I barely stopped myself squeeing when it ended, though, I was a little weepy then, too. I thought I'd better write it, since I can't be the only one who likes this kind of stuff. Do enjoy!))