A/N: I'm nearly sorry how long it took to get this up. These are long chapters. Sometimes I wonder if they're too long.
The year is 1975, and the location is the streets of London, England. The war below the waters of the Atlantic Ocean remain unknown to the general public, although there is a different sort of attention that calls to the location hidden under the ocean.
The morning sky is dark, filled with heavy clouds that promise the fall of rain for most of the day.
Second-year university student Arthur Kirkland made his way to the University of London, turning his collar up against the wind and the sprinkling cold rain. His hair was damp, pressed flat to his head unlike the usual scruffy look his hair generally tends to have. His uneven row of bangs was plastered to his forehead, covering his thick eyebrows.
He stopped off at a café on his way to the school, buying a cuppa and taking a seat. The blonde removed his damp messenger bag from his shoulder, setting it on the floor beside him. He wrapped both hands around the porcelain cup, letting it warm his chilled fingers.
Arthur took notice of the newspaper that someone had left behind, grabbing it and unfolding it, avoiding the slightly damp tea stain that had leaked through the first few pages. Arthur scanned the pages quickly, finding few things of interest. He almost tossed it back to where he found it until he caught sight of a small article that often showed up in every newspaper.
"MISSING" in small bolded letters followed by a list of names and their respective locations where they had been last seen. Arthur, like everyone else, often skimmed the names, feeling relief when finding that there was no one he knew today.
For the past few years people from all around the world were going missing. Police found no pattern or trend in those who went missing, as well as little to no evidence of their captor. Arthur hadn't had anyone he personally knew go missing yet, but he couldn't help but feel paranoia for the future.
Finding all that he had interest in, Arthur took the newspaper, reaching down to tuck it into his messenger bag. He was sure some of his classmates might want to have a look at the names, too.
The blonde Briton took his time to drink his tea, watching a few people mill about on the streets through the window. Cars and taxis sped by, as usual. The rain was coming down harder now, but not unbearably so. Besides, his university was just a ten minute walk from the café.
Once Arthur finished his cuppa he took his leave, pulling the strap of the bag over his shoulder and walking quickly, taking to walking under whatever shelter was available on his brief trek to his school. People around him picked up the pace, seeking their destination quicker, or a temporary shelter as the rain continued to worsen. Arthur was not the only one without an umbrella, or the need to be somewhere soon. Living in London, one got used to it or brought an umbrella. Arthur just happened to be one of those people who were used to it.
Despite the quickly decreasing number in people outside, Arthur felt a sharp tingle creep up his spine, making him shudder and turn, looking about.
No one was even looking at him. They were all too busy running away. He couldn't imagine why he felt the sudden chill of being watched. A ghost? A demon?
"Grandmother?" he muttered to himself curiously.
He could have slapped himself for being so ridiculous. He felt this because he had just read the paper, right? It was just his overactive imagination. He really did have quite the imagination according to many others. He could swear magical creatures were right there in front of him, talking or playing with him. Did anyone else see them? No. Of course not. Arthur was crazy, Arthur was over imaginative. Arthur was certainly imagining the chilling feeling that crawled up and down his spinal column.
The Briton shook his head, sending drops of water flying. No more pondering in the rain. Time to go! No more talking to his deceased grandmother.
Arthur stopped thinking about the potential watcher, jogging the rest of the way to the university.
Several minutes later he found himself at the front of the building, leaning against the front door and gasping for breath. Was he really that out of shape?
Deciding it wasn't important and that he needed to get out of the rain, out of sight, and into the building to get ready for class, Arthur entered the building.
The first thing he did was remove his dripping wet jacket. It had done its job well in protecting him from the water. It would probably be completely dry in a few hours. Maybe when he went to his second class.
Within the building, there were a handful of students. If you considered how large the entire student body was, the amount of damp students walking around at this time of day was only a handful. Not many people actually enjoyed taking the early morning classes, even if it meant more free time during the day. It caught up to you eventually. Most preferred a class some time after ten or eleven.
Arthur headed to his first class where only a few of the handful of people would be sitting, ready for very early morning learning. He found himself an isolated seat in the corner.
Admittedly, he was not a popular person within his class. All of them, actually. He didn't mind, really. Friends would drag him down, he figured. Spend too much time with them rather than studying is what most people with friends might do. No thanks, not for Arthur.
He sat back in his chair, watching the room gradually fill as the few students trickled in. Naturally no one willingly chose to sit near him. He sat in his own splendid isolation. So much for sharing the newspaper this morning.
The professor, an aging man who was quickly nearing his retirement day, entered the room last. He pulled his faded tweed jacket closer to his shivering frame and removed a stained handkerchief from his breast pocket. Most students were already used to the gross blowing sounds that the professor made every morning before class. Half of them had stopped grimacing at the airy noise that came from the old man emptying his snot into the fabric.
"Good mor-" he began before breaking into a short fit of coughing.
Another thing the students were used to: the professor spending anywhere from five to ten minutes coughing out the morning plans.
As the classroom of twelve students listened between the hacking and the general rundown of what would be covered today, as well as what they should remember from the day previous.
Usually class was very boring, but Arthur welcomed monotonous to take his mind off of the strange feeling that had felt like nails running down his spine. He was so into the monotonous droning that he nearly fell asleep.
Class was over before he knew it. Maybe because he had been half dozing through most of it.
For the rest of the day Arthur focused intently on his teachers' lectures, becoming more and more absorbed into what the teachers had to say. He had wondered how safe it would be to walk home alone. Why hadn't convincing himself that it was all his imagination or his deceased grandmother worked?
The time was early in the evening when his classes were through. It was only today that they ran to this time. Generally they ended mid-afternoon, but twice a week wasn't too bad to sit just a little longer.
The Briton's growling stomach alerted him of his body's needs. The steady pounding in his head reminded him of the tea time he had missed. Call him crazy, but when he missed his tea time he got massive headaches.
Unfortunately for him his last class had assigned a research project due in three days' time. He'd have to hit the library today if he wanted to work at a steady pace rather than a rushed, half-assed job. Of all days to need to stay late, it had to be the day that he had been spooked.
First thing was first though, and tea was everything to him. Maybe a quick meal to accompany the tea while he was at it.
When he had stepped outside, the rain had stopped. For now, he added. The sky was dark from the heavy clouds gathered over London. It would be raining on and off, for sure.
Arthur took a quick visit to the same café he had visited this morning, buying himself tea and a meal of bread and soup. He had hurried from the university to the café as quickly as he could to avoid being outside and in the open.
He wished he could have taken his time eating, or even gone home to cook, but the report wasn't going to research itself, nor did he have enough knowledge of the subject to write it on his own.
The trip back to the university was also quick. He took a visit to the library, finding comfort in the fact that he was not alone in the room of books and knowledge.
Finding a spot in the middle, Arthur set the messenger bag to the side of the chair, pulling out the papers setting out his guidelines for the report. To his annoyance the corner of the page was crumpled. He laid it flat on the table before smoothing it out, grimacing when that didn't completely work.
Once he skimmed it thrice, he stood up and went to search for the books he would need. Unsurprisingly he was a frequent visitor of the university's library, as well as any other library and bookstore in the area of his home. He knew the workings of the Dewy Decimal System by heart.
Four books would have to do it. He would certainly attempt to finish his research today; maybe even start the rough draft.
He brought the four heavy books back to his seat, pulling out his notebook and pen. Despite having the key points already typed on paper in front of him, he felt much better writing it out in his notebook.
There were exactly seven other people in the library besides him when he cracked open the first book.
Three books and four pages of front-and-back written notes and Arthur found himself as the only person in the room.
He looked up, stretching and hearing multiple pops in his back and neck. Upon realizing he was the very last person in the room he slammed the book shut and closed his notebook. He made quick work of returning the books were he found them and was out the door before he knew it.
His heart was thudding in his chest as he threw the door open to fresh air and pounding rain. The rain left a foggy appearance over London. As far as he could see –which was only about ten feet forward- London was under a misty cloud of water.
Arthur sucked in a breath and chewed his lower lip, observing the surroundings of the late night. Not a person in sight, he noticed.
That was either very good or very bad.
On one hand, no one was around to spook him.
On the other hand, there was no one around to save him.
No matter what it was, it was extremely abnormal. There was never not a car, or a person doing their business. London, no matter how bad the weather could get, had people walking or driving about.
He could sprint for it - or at least his best impression of sprinting- which would more or less look like a stuttered jogging pace. Perhaps it was best no one was around to realize what a failure he was when it came to physical activity.
The physically-inept Briton tore down the streets of London, doing his best to see through the rain as he spattered against his face. Running was only made harder as he carried his messenger bag, trying to hold it away from the thigh it had been banging against. His anxious mind made the large buildings rise up, trapping him in the middle of the main road.
He felt foolish as he ran, his breath clouding in front of him. He must be crazy, or stupid. There was nothing there, so why was he running? Why just today?
The thought occurred to him that even if he did make it home safe and sound today, whether or not his strange paranoia continued, there could still be something scaring him during the rest of the week, and then on.
Paranoia didn't start up for no reason, he was certain.
Arthur, as dumb as he thought it was, slowed to a stop. He panted heavily, looking around quickly. Still no one.
"All right, you wanker," he muttered under his breath. He didn't know if he was talking to himself or to what he believed to be watching him; following him.
"Show yourself."
So he waited. He listened carefully. He watched the barren streets like a hawk.
Nothing. He wasn't sure if he should be laughing or crying at his sudden, blatant lunacy.
He was frustrated. Here he was, standing alone in the rain, soaked through his clothes. Shouting at imaginary demons, no less. No wonder he didn't have friends.
Arthur was just about to take a step forward, a step to put all of this ridiculous paranoia behind him, when he heard the clinking of metal.
Needless to say he was frozen in place.
The rhythm of the metal hitting stone was steady, as though something were dropping at a constant rate. The sounds grew louder though; closer, dare he say. Arthur was not alone on the streets of London, and definitely not in the good way.
Footsteps, he realized.
The building set up made the noises appear as though they were coming from all around. He couldn't pinpoint the direction that the steps came from.
Run, run, his mind ordered him. His legs trembled, held fast out of fear. All those movies he had criticized for the main character standing stupidly, waiting for their death, he could no longer blame. His mouth had run dry; his heart beat so loudly in his ears he was sure he'd go deaf. He felt light headed, as if he wasn't really wasn't inside his own body. At the moment he was really wishing he wasn't in his own body. Maybe he'd be safer that way.
The footsteps were louder, closer now. He wouldn't be surprised if they were right behind him now.
Turn around, he now told himself, though the action was resisted at first.
Arthur hesitantly looked behind him, his breath catching when he realized there really was someone there. He managed to get a brief look at what was behind him. The rest of his body moved once it had acknowledged the source of fear. Maybe it would let him run away now.
As though his feet had been held down by invisible hands, Arthur pulled free from the spell of terror, bolting down the street.
No way had he imagined that.. that thing! He didn't get a good look at it, but he knew what he saw.
Something that towered over him. Maybe it was well over ten feet high! Three piercing yellow eyes that glowed in the dark were staring him down, maybe staring straight into his soul. It wore a bulky metal suit of armor, gothic in style. A large, almost pill-shaped object hung from its back. A pod of some sort, maybe, but Arthur wasn't sure. A gun large enough to beat an elephant as though it were a bat hung on its side. Arthur didn't know guns could get that big. His mind only had time to jump to conclusions, but it looked as though it could have come from outer space.
Despite the heavy burning in his legs, the fire in his lungs, and icy terror that clawed at his heart, Arthur pushed on, traveling down side streets and between buildings. Anything he had to do to escape the monster.
He didn't hear the sound of pursuit once he felt he had gotten far enough. Arthur was pressed against the side of a building, gasping for breath as quietly as he could manage.
Many thoughts raced through his head at once.
Should he keep moving?
Should he return home?
Was it still following him?
Had he escaped?
What was safe?
Why did it want him?
There were far too many questions for him to keep up with. Arthur had to act now, think later.
He stepped out from the safety of the building's cover. He recognized where his legs had taken him to. He ought to go to a place that was certain to have other people. Safety in numbers, his father always told him.
As soon as he had stepped away from the building, he found himself face to face with the empty street. Perhaps he really had outran the monster?
Fear raked its claws across his heart again, and for a good reason, too.
Arthur turned around, locking eyes with three yellow dots of light. His breath caught in this throat before he could scream, no matter how much he wanted to cry for help.
Before he could do much more, a large hand shot out, knocking him soundly across the head.
The Briton was out cold before he hit the ground.
No one was there to witness the capture of the young British male that night as the creature placed his limp body into the pod on its back. No one saw the metal-armored creature walk to the waters surrounding London, stepping in to a strange floating pod and diving down into the water, never to surface again.
Arthur awoke in darkness, something roughly pawing at his body.
The first thing he became aware of was the tight confines that his body was in.
He found himself in a cramped fetal position with walls pressing against him on all sides. His head ached worse than when he was without tea. He could only vaguely recall being hit. He could feel his messenger bag underneath him, cushioning him only slightly. When he looked to see what was nudging at him, he found thick, gloved hands trying to grasp him under his arms.
He had little option to jerk or struggle as there was too little room. He allowed the hands to lift him from his confines, dragging him out and dropping him to a slightly wet floor.
"Hey!" he shouted nervously, "where did you take me?"
Unsurprisingly his question went unanswered. Only a small groan was uttered from the tremendous beast that stood over him.
There was little lighting in the location. The room, if he could call it that, was only large enough to allow the monster to crouch. He could probably walk from one end of the room to the other in five long steps.
In the center was a raised platform with a few controls to it. To his right, or to the front of the control platform, was a window that served as the fourth wall for the structure.
It was looking through this that Arthur realized he was not in a room.
He was underwater sinking deeper and deeper with fish swimming past him. Sharks and whales in the distance took no notice of the small room that sank through the waters, sometimes bumping rocky edges and crushing brightly colored sea creatures.
"We're underwater?" Arthur asked, mostly to himself. "But how? Where would this take us?" What would this accomplish? He suddenly remembered the disappearances around the world. Could this be it? Strange monsters dragging unwilling people underwater to… to… what? To drown them? To eat them? To put them in a cage below the surface of the ocean? Maybe this thing had a collection of people. Maybe it liked to kick them out of the small room and watch them struggle for the surface that was impossible to swim to.
The metalman made no move to grab him as Arthur stood up and walked around. Arthur watched it carefully as he looked at the control box in the center of the room.
He was looking for a button that maybe suggested returning to the surface.
Unfortunately there was no such thing.
The buttons, from left to right, were labeled: Lights, Window, Introduction, Emergency. While he was very well tempted to hit the Emergency button, he had a feeling this was not the kind of Emergency it would solve.
He hit the lights button first; only succeeding in shutting off the dim lighting he was provided. He quickly solved this by hitting it again. He was still trapped in a semi-dark room with a strange monster he could never have dreamed of. The window button did fuck- all, and the Emergency button would be the last thing he pressed.
"Well, shit."
With nothing to lose he pressed the introduction button, thinking that it too did squat when the dim lights shut off. The window was covered with a white screen, like a movie screen. Elevator-like music filled the small room as the screen lit up and began to play a clip.
"Hola! This is un comercial telling you about Antonio's Greens located in Mercado de Productores! Special price, just for you! Stop on by today!"
Arthur could only blink at the browned haired male on the screen as he cheerily displayed his shop. The background showed many people happily shopping for food. Farmer's Market, the caption below Antonio said.
The video quickly switched to a black screen. Music continued to play so Arthur had to assume it was not yet over.
In the beginning, there were two men. Two men with a big dream that would change the world for those deserving something better. White text with a typewriter sound effect spread across the black screen.
In 1939 two men made their dream come true!
A man with messy brown hair and many unruly curls appeared on screen first, followed by a stern man with long blonde hair swept back from his forehead.
Romulus Vargas and Adalbert Beilschmidt become the founders of: Pangaea, the world away from the world.
"Today you will find something fantastic, something amazing. Today you will see 'the world away from the world.' Today, you have been chosen to see Pangaea!" an announcer's voice broadcasted around the room.
The image on the screen had changed to the two men introduced as the creators of the so called Pangaea. Romulus stood proudly, waving enthusiastically. Adalbert wore a stern frown, looking equally proud but far more mature.
"Ciao! This is Romulus speaking, and we're proud to bring you, a privileged human being, to our creation!" His thick Italian accent mesmerized Arthur. So he wasn't being sent to a cage at the bottom of the ocean?
A deep grunt came from the blonde male at his side.
"Indeed. You have been chosen from four million people in the world to come to Pangaea, a paradise below the Atlantic Ocean. Here, only the best of the best are permitted. It is a society for only the brightest, quickest, and most talented in the world.
"Your talents were recognized and you were invited to Pangaea. You have made the right choice. Welcome home."
With that, the two men faded from the screen and the white screen shut off. The dim light returned to the room and Arthur was left in silence.
He looked at the buttons one more time before hitting window, and then Emergency.
Arthur found himself disappointed at first. The Emergency button was broken, it appeared. He had expected sirens, flashing lights. Maybe the creature to freak on him?
But no. He received little to no reaction from the stooped beast in the corner of the room.
The window button was more impressive, and he had already guessed its function.
Thought it had seemingly not worked the first time, now it drew the movie screen away and returned to him the view from the large window.
This was where his disappointment turned into awe.
Before him the window displayed a view of grand lights, tall buildings, and more fish.
Tall buildings sat on the floor of the ocean, lighting up the area with neon lights. On top of those buildings were a few other levels with other buildings sitting on top. Arthur noticed the room was moving closer to them. To the side he saw signs, telling him how far below the ocean he was, how close he was to the docking station, and a few advertisements for a few of the fantastic wonders that awaited fellow 'geniuses' like him.
To him, it was like the legends of Atlantis, the underwater city that had sunk. He would have thought so had he not listened to the introduction given to him on the screen.
Domes stood atop some of the highest buildings, while a network of clear tunnels connected one building to another. Some of the tunnels had cracked or burst, disconnecting some path ways. Arthur wondered if the inside of the buildings were flooded.
Signs revealed the name of some locations, such as bars, strip clubs, restaurants, and more.
There was little he could do until they reached the docking station. Arthur sat back and watched the building draw nearer, opening a small garage and allowing the room to pass through. At this point Arthur wondered if he should be calling it a boat or a submarine. It couldn't be called a room anymore, now that it had brought him to a docking station.
The submarine had entered the garage and now traveled upwards. From what he could tell, a red light flashed up top, lighting the water red. Maybe the Emergency button had really worked? But who would see it? He had to assume that everyone in the underwater city had drowned.
An alarm could be heard, however muted it was from their location. Arthur took it as a sign that they were getting closer and closer. What would happen then? When they reached the surface of the docking station where he assumed they would depart the submarine, what then? Would the beast take him and eat him? Would it force his head under the water until the bubbles stopped?
This creature came from this place, he had to assume. Maybe the geniuses that lived here had made it. So there could be more, couldn't there?
Just what kind of place could this be?
Arthur felt the submarine come to a stop, feeling it shake a bit from something locking it in place. Just outside the window was a light that read 'draining.' The water around the submarine disappeared, seemingly draining out elsewhere. The red light switched to green, reading 'draining complete.' As if that wasn't obvious enough. Arthur had the feeling they would be leaving shortly, and any and all questions would remain unanswered.
Before he ran out of chances, he reached into the pod that he had been transported in, grabbing his messenger bag at the bottom. He wondered why the creature hadn't just ripped it off of his person while he had been in the streets of London, rather than take it with them.
The monster reached out a meaty hand and slapped the thick glass of the window hard, making Arthur jump as he recalled how strong it was.
Apparently there had been more of a point to slamming its hand against the window than intimidating the Briton, because the window also served as a door.
The creature climbed out first, blocking the door to prevent Arthur from making a run for it.
It straightened out once it stepped out completely, waiting at the entrance for its prisoner to follow. It reached in and Arthur stepped back, thinking it meant to grab him in one large hand and drag him out. Instead it grabbed the container Arthur had been carried in, equipping it back on its back.
Deciding sitting around and waiting for nothing would get him nowhere but dead, and not wanting to test the metalman's patience, Arthur crept towards the opening, taking a tentative step out.
As soon as he had made his way out of what he now realized to be a larger sort of pod, like the one on the creature's back, he was grabbed, tucked under the metal suit's arm. Before he knew it, wind was rushing at him and he was speeding through rooms and tunnels.
Arthur clenched his jaw tightly. With all the jostling about he was afraid he would bite his tongue off. He was bumped roughly into its hard metal side, his messenger bag bumping into his own side. He hoped nothing fell out. He could only be glad he wasn't placed on the side that the gun hung from. He could only imagine how much it would hurt to constantly beat himself against the strange weapon.
They exited one tube only to turn left and into another, and only to turn right at the end of that tube. Arthur had no idea how it knew where it was going without some sort of map. There was only an entire network of tubes that could lead anywhere in the large city. He had little time to watch the underwater world pass by as they ran through the tunnels. He could only glimpse the neon signs directing them to certain places in the city.
Finally they reached the end of a tube, bursting through the exit and running on top of the fallen metal door. Before them, Arthur was exposed to part of the city. Maybe not the best part, but certainly not the worst.
He had been unable to hear it from the tunnels, but now it was deafeningly clear. Sirens were going off. The warning kind.
Buildings were collapsed or damaged. Some were even on fire, as though they had recently caught. The city within the underwater utopia was too large for Arthur to take in at once. There were too many things for him to see.
Pathways between the buildings were littered with bodies and broken pieces of a bit of everything around them. Scraps of trash were plastered to the ground while dry coats of blood painted the ground and the sides of most buildings a dark brown.
War had happened here, as far as Arthur could gather.
The enchanted Briton was denied the chance to further study the battlegrounds when the sound of gunfire sounded in the distance. A dull roar similar to what the creature carrying him could make was heard faintly.
Hearing the groan, the thing carrying him took notice of it and turned in the opposite direction. It knew what was going on, apparently.
Maybe it was being hunted? Maybe they were some sort of race of gargantuan, humanoid animals that had a small group down here? Maybe they were being hunted by people? Arthur wondered if he had a chance of being saved.
He found himself being shaken like a ragdoll once more as the beast tore through the city with a very precise location in mind. Arthur didn't know how it did it, but the creature didn't hesitate to turn corners or run down alleyways. It knew where it was taking him.
More gunfire was heard as they charged onwards, spurring the metalman on. Arthur couldn't believe how quick it was, despite its bulk and heavy equipment. It didn't even clip corners of buildings as it made sharp turns and seemingly split second decisions.
As they rounded a corner that would take them out of a messy alleyway with a few torn up bodies and upturned trashcans, Arthur felt a tremendous force collide with them before he understood what was going on.
Arthur was thrown to the ground as the metalman discarded him, groaning and growling as it prepared the gun on its hip.
Winded and confused, Arthur picked himself up off the ground from where had been carelessly tossed to the side. No broken bones. Just bruises. That wasn't his biggest problem though. He didn't know what hit the beast but he wasn't going to ignore the fact that he had been let go.
Many figures wearing strange gas masks ran at him. Or rather, the monster. Arthur had a hard time believing there were people down here.
Some of them raised their hands, others raised their guns. Lightning or fire, much to his disbelief shot from their hands. Deciding he was crazy and the pressure from being a fuck ton of feet underwater was screwing with him, Arthur decided not to stay to see what the hell could shoot from the guns.
Pivoting sharply, Arthur ran for his life for the second time this day.
He sprinted for the first alleyway he could find, taking random turns and avoiding staying out in the open. He tried taking cover behind overturned dressers or other items that had been removed from houses or stores nearby and used as a shield. The sight had been bizarre at first, but once Arthur saw bullet holes and nicks from sharp weapons in the wood of dressers or other stolen furniture, he understood.
No matter how far he had been from his original spot, sirens still were heard. Maybe not as sharply, but his guess was that the entire underwater area could hear them. Why not in the tubes though?
Many doors were torn open, left hanging by a single hinge. Some had been torn down, or dented in, like something had rammed it.
Of course, with all these open doors Arthur considered hiding out in someone's old house. He felt that sitting still and attempting to hide from the creatures that seemed to know every street corner and pebble of the city would be pointless though. He kept moving.
Gunfire was heard from all over. Arthur tried to avoid those sounds, despite the fact that it was quite possibly his only hope to talk to potential humans. If it meant he would be near another one of those metal monsters, he'd say no thank you, good day sir!
No matter how much adrenaline and fear he had fueling the energy behind his running, Arthur was slowing down quickly. He struggled to keep his lungs sucking in air as he ran as far as he could. He needed to find somewhere safe to rest for a brief moment. Just until he got the wind back in his lungs.
Arthur found himself in a shopping district once he'd made it away from the alleyways. He stuck close to the building faces to avoid remaining out in the open. He peeked around the corner every time he turned. In the distance, gunfire was rapid and screams were constant. Some sounded an awful lot like human screams. Arthur was torn between seeking them out for help or to keep hiding.
Around him, most stores had their windows smashed. People had raided the stores of anything salvageable in the ruin of the city. He crawled into the nearest building through its smashed window once he discovered the door was unmoving from the outside. Something was blocking it from within the store. He took care not to touch the broken glass still embedded in the wall. He took more care not to touch much of the glass on his way in, too.
He immediately found himself gagging and clapping a hand to his mouth. The stench in the room had been ten times worse than the stench that hung around the city. Arthur had thought it to be the city rotting from the inside out. Technically it was actually rotting inside.
Human corpses in different stages of decay. Some had more pieces missing and were decaying at a quicker rate. Many were without skin at this point. Eyes had long popped long ago. As far as he could tell none of these corpses had been moved from the day they had died, if the blood stains below them told any story.
Their position of the room looked like they had been surprised. They had been in the middle of a normal day, purchasing –Arthur took a look at what exactly was sold here- tools? They had been attacked in the middle of buying tools for whatever reason. They had been ambushed?
Arthur couldn't look at them anymore. They all told a story by their clothes, their positions in the shop. Some even had their expressions still plastered on their face. Mostly surprise, if their mouths could tell him anything. Or maybe it was just the fact that a few were missing their jaws and looked like they could be trapped in a moment of surprise.
He couldn't stand to look at them anymore. He didn't think he could tolerate the smell much longer without vomiting. He had come in here to get a breather, but if he couldn't even breathe in the room, it was pointless to remain here.
The blonde discovered the reason the door had not budged even a bit when he had tried to open it. Adding more to his confusion, the Briton observed that the door had been barricaded with many chairs. So they had trapped themselves inside and forgotten the window? Arthur was beyond confused and beyond trying to piece it together.
With little hesitation he was crawling out of the store the way he had come in. He was a little too anxious to remove himself from the room of melted, rotting bodies and hissed as a sharp pain lanced his hand.
He had been careless on his exit. His hand had a fairly shallow cut across the palm. He could only grimace at his stupidity and the stinging coming from the wound as he carried on. He had to. He would just make sure not to touch anything in this probably-disease-infested city. There had to be a shite ton of diseases if there were dead bodies hanging around and waiting to turn into dust.
Arthur kept his hand clenched into a fist and continued to walk through the area. He took care to listen to the surroundings. Other than the faint sound of guns in the far distance, Arthur could only hear the distant siren and the crackling of flames from random barrels that were placed around the city, burning trash. Had someone lit these? He didn't know their main intent, but they worked well as a dull light source.
He took refuge into the alleyways that would hopefully take him out of the shopping area. He didn't have a plan; just keep moving.
He wondered what he could do for food. Break in to the houses and shops and see what had been left, he supposed.
Gradually he began noticing things that stuck out among the trash in the narrow spaces he walked through.
Bright yellow posters with a crude, almost vague portrait of a man with blonde hair, suspenders hanging from his white collared shirt, and glasses hung on the wall or crumpled on the ground with the rest of the trash. Dirt and blood were smeared across many of the posters.
He stood confidently with his hands on his hips, looking out into the distance. His face lacked any specific features save for the lining of his nose. A mystery of a man, a man with no face, a man whom they didn't know whose face went to? Propaganda implied many things.
There were several types of posters with the man on it. Some had words. Some had different backgrounds. All of them included the man standing confidently though. In a few, there were even a few other people behind him.
Wanted For Treason to the People was written on most of them.
A bad guy, then, Arthur concluded.
He moved on. He could only hope that it wasn't that man who was after him.
Upon leaving the shopping district he found an area with apartment buildings. He debated on taking refuge in one of these, even if most of the windows were shattered and quite a few of them looked as though they had shared a fire.
Would he be safe if he hid in one of the rooms?
Before he could make up his mind he froze. He could almost swear he heard voices.
Arthur panicked as indecision and fear ran through him. Friends? Enemies? No matter what they turned out to be, they were coming closer. Three voices, if he was sure. Arthur dashed to the side of an apartment building and held his breath, listening for the people who were sure to come through.
"-an said the new shipment was intercepted."
"How are we supposed to find it?"
"Maybe if we split up and took a different district we would have a better chance of success."
The Briton peeked around the corner of the building to spot three figures walking away from him, their backs facing him.
Two young men and a child. The first young man had semi-wavy brown hair. His green uniform had many holes and stains in it. The second young man had short blonde hair and a slightly clearer brown uniform. The child had short brown hair and struggled to keep up with the other two. They spoke in a hushed voice as if they would be overheard.
"Well we have to come back with something!" the small one cried fearfully.
"And we will," the blonde assured somewhat shakily.
The older brunette said nothing as they walked on.
Arthur was torn between exposing himself to ask for him, or to allow them to continue on and go with his original plan of squatting in one of the abandoned, fire-damaged apartment buildings.
He straightened his clothes as best he could with one un-bloodied hand to make himself look a bit more presentable. Just because he was in some sort of wasted society didn't mean he had to appear as though he had been rolling around in it.
Inhaling and exhaling once, he retreated from his undercover spot at the side of the building.
"Excuse me, my good sirs?" he called out hesitantly.
They whipped around, startled.
The smallest one squealed in fear, trembling hard enough that Arthur could see it from the distance he stood at. The blonde one examined him closer, pushing his thick rimmed glasses up on his nose. The wavy haired brunette had terror written all over his face.
No gas masks, he noticed. They must be the good guys.
"May I trouble one of you for my whereabouts? I'm… new," he finished lamely.
The trio stood frozen for a second more before they all turned and sprinted away. Arthur took a moment to register their sudden retreat before he gave chase, shouting apologies and questions after them.
All three of them were very quick, he discovered. None of them lagged behind as they ran away from him. Perhaps the little one was a bit faster, but he seemed to be waiting for the older boys to show him where to go. Arthur could hear him sobbing up ahead.
"I'm sorry! I don't know what I'm doing though!" he called, trying to keep them in sight.
As if they had everything been all planned out, the three of them split up.
Arthur gaped as he watched each disappear down individual paths. He wasn't sure who to follow, and they were all disappearing so quickly from his line of sight. Before he could make up his mind on who to follow, he lost sight of all three. He could hear very faint sobbing sounds from the little one but decided trying to catch up would be useless.
With nothing left to do and little idea where he was or where he could go, Arthur turned around and attempted to backtrack to the apartment buildings. He would be kipping out there after all, it seemed.
He took a few wrong turns and had attempted to backtrack those, only getting himself further lost in the maze of buildings. He didn't even know what half of the buildings were for. He could only make out the old restaurants that were on fire because something inside had presumably caught fire.
Arthur had noticed that he couldn't see a ceiling to where another level supposedly sat. It felt like being in one large room that encased buildings and houses.
Boxes were stacked up around the messy city. Some contained rotting food, or ammo clips to guns he had never heard of. Some were empty, while others were broken. There was nothing useful to him at the moment in any of them. More burning trashcans were placed around the area. Some had been knocked over, spilling fire onto the trash piles. Arthur wondered how this place hadn't burned to the ground yet.
He had no idea where he was at this point. He might as well forget trying to sleep in one of the apartment buildings and just sleep in a restaurant not on fire.
Heaving a resigned sigh, Arthur made a beeline for one of the few buildings not emitting smoke from broken windows or holes in the ceiling. He peeked through the boarded up window to look for a place to sleep inside of the diner.
It was dark inside, but from what he could tell, tables had been knocked over and chairs had been destroyed. No dead bodies in here. It was probably the best he could ask for.
"Excuse me?" someone tapped on his shoulder, making him jump five feet in the air and squeaking in surprise.
He turned around, heart pounding and trying to pretend it had been a manlier cry of fear than that he had yelped.
A young man stood before him, cradling a sleeping, injured cat. His messy brown hair gave him an appearance of one who had just rolled out of bed. His shirt had many holes in it, some looked like fire had eaten away at the fabric.
"Who are you?" Arthur demanded. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
The man stroked the cat's head slowly, looking at Arthur with disdain. He gave it a second's thought before he lifted his hand and pressed it to Arthur's forehead.
Arthur had been about to protest about the sudden physical contact before he saw a blinding white, and feel a searing pain rip through his head.
The brunette lazily watched the blonde stranger's eyes roll to the back of his head before cutting the electricity and releasing him. He would bring him back with him and see what the leader had to say about him.
A/N: No lie, I didn't really do a thorough edit of this. Both betas are going to college in a few days and I literally just finished this. I don't think I have the patience to sit and edit right now. All mistakes are mine, and apologized for!