"–captured an anonymous video. Three days since the beginning of the outbreak, we finally receive word from the infamous terrorist: Alex Mercer." The reporter's pretty face flashed away to darkness on the screen. It was soon replaced by another face, this one hooded and shady. The camera bobbed up and down a few times as it was adjusted. Finally, the hooded man sat back in his chair. He nodded in seeming satisfaction.
"Hello. My name is Alex Mercer. You've probably have already heard of me: the Monster of Manhattan, Blacklight, the number one biological terrorist. So I don't think I need to introduce myself.
"Now you must wonder about this video. After all, I didn't publicly announce myself the first time, nor did I give demands to the government. The past is in the past. We shan't worry about that." He leaned back until the upper side of his face was hidden in shadows. "But you see, times have changed. I am not the same foolish man who accidentally first released the virus in New York, and this is nothing short of an intentional biological attack on the entire country." When he smiled, his teeth were too sharp. "When my work is finished, you will all burn.
"Why, you ask? My answer is this:" he leaned forwarded again, yet his face remained shrouded. "This world is corrupt to its core, and humanity is the reason." He snarled as he spoke. "Humanity is the reason why humanity itself is in fear. Humanity is the reason why I," he nearly yelled, "why I exist! I will cleanse the weak from the face of this planet! I will evolve you all beyond your dreams! There shall not be any of this old world left! And then," he calmed, "and then there shall be peace." His smile was nothing short of sinister. As the last of the color faded in the recording, his eyes glowed, like charcoals in a dead hearth, and then was gone.
The reporter was back. "Police are still investigating the origin of the video, but it has been confirmed by the government the man was truly the real Alex Mercer. Citizens are advised to immediate contact the nearest authority if this man is spotted. Take no risks! The military has released that this is man is very dangerous."
ooo
"Come. I've found the perfect place for us to stay."
"Would it be by any chance a five star hotel?"
"Well, no. But no one will find us there."
Living on the streets is not have as bad it was all cracked up to be, especially when you don't need to eat, or when half the city is with you on the streets. We had wondered along the refugee area, patrolled constantly by armed soldiers should a fight break out. There had not been much to see despite such a large city. In fact, it was awfully dull, an emotion I would never have thought to associate with the apocalypse.
"We should do something," I had complained, on the second day we escaped from the infected zone. Ethan had given me a skeptical glance.
"Like what?" He was amused, which only made me more determined to alleviate this boredom.
"Well, I don't know…" The thought of it was only so perplexing, yet with a disappointed realization that I knew there was nothing.
"How about this," he proposed, surprising me, "let's talk."
"About what?"
"About ourselves. Because first of all, I know next to nothing about you, other than you preferred to be called Anna. Plus, you probably know nothing about me either. So if we are going to be stuck together, we might as well know something about each other."
"Uh, ok."
I felt very self conscious, especially when he said "You first."
"I, uh, um." I stopped, then at his encouraging look, began anew. "I'm a, uh, a student from the local area. I've lived here all my life, went to a normal high school, was planning to go to college soon. When the virus hit, I ran, and then I found you." When he cocked an eyebrow, I was beyond exasperated. "What?!"
"A name, please?"
"My name is Annalisa…" I felt rather uncomfortable.
"Annalisa…?"
"Snow. My name is Annalisa Snow."
I had waited for him to say something more interesting, like "Nice to meet you, Anna." But instead, he gave a stupid "huh," to which I almost felt offended, and proceeded to introduce himself. He was only home for a summer, and had plans to go back to school soon, but he was kidnapped, quite inconveniently, and "some people did some stuff" to him, in his exact words. I raised an eyebrow, but he only protested I had hardly given all my life's details. And that was the story of how I met Ethan M. Purcell. Honestly, I think it should be more dramatic, right?
Anyways, we had been inspecting an abandoned house somewhere in the middle of nowhere. In the ceiling was a lousy patch of plank which looked as sturdy as an eighty-year-old grandma on chicken legs and on the walls were holes to see into the moldy framework. The floors creaked loudly with every step, and one particular part near the door completely crumbled down when Ethan stepped on it. It was a new home, if only temporarily.
"Not bad," I commented. It could be worse. "But wouldn't the neighbors notice?" My first impression of them was miserable. They were loud people, and rather cynical, too, from the evil looks they gave us. "I mean it's not like we are as suspicious as we could possibly be, but wouldn't someone sooner or later get ideas and call cops?"
"Cops?" he snorted. "There's no cops in an apocalypse. Haven't you seen all those zombie movies? There are no cops." He glanced around, carefully scrutinizing every little detail. "And besides, we need somewhere to be. Right now, we have nothing. And you," he looked me over; I felt the urge to hide, "and you need food. You look too weak. In fact, I'd say our biggest worry is someone thinking I'm underfeeding you."
I ignored his remark. "Food?"
"Food." Something about the word was simply ominous.
"What food? What food do..." I gestured wildly to us, "us eat?"
His face fell. "Ah, well, you see, um, well, this is probably the part you won't like. But uh," he scratched his head, "let's just say I hope you aren't a vegetarian or a humanist." He gave a rather sheepish smile, which I frowned at. "Yeah. Let's leave it at that for now."
I shrugged. "I will find out soon enough anyways."
"Yeah." I wished I could have never.
ooo
Consumption is the second hilarity of infection to running at the speed of sound, and the most pleasurable. When people such as I take within myself the biomass of another, we not only assume their mass, but also their physical makeup, which includes their appearance, and their present thoughts and notable memories. What I mean by the latter is, for example, if I was to consume a man who had recently tortured a helpless prisoner, I might retain his sharp memories of the prisoner's painful screams and the terribleness he felt during the torture, or crazed joy, depending on the man, but I will not know what he had for lunch a week ago, because either that is not important, or the man himself has forgotten. However, oddly, not all unimportant reminiscences are forfeited. At one point I noted a man had once cursed out at a cashier at his frequented coffee shop, and received a free boot to his rear and a permanent ban. It might not be influential in his life, but he has certainly memorized that detail so much so that I will see it too.
It would be in the wee hours of the morning when I received my first gruesome look at the more shady side in the life of an infected. When the patrol inspectors knocked on our door, I opened it to see masked military men, one of whom held a strange device at me, very much like the speedometer traffic cops use as an excuse to pull people over. It beeped, and they stared strangely at me.
"Ma'am, we need to inspect this house for possible signs of infection," said one of them, deadpanned.
I stared back. "This is–" Just then the device beeped louder. The three looked at one another, and then one raised a weapon to me.
"Ma'am, please put your hands on your head!" The strangeness of his distorted voice from the mask was terrifying. One forced his way through the suddenly too narrow door frame. I took a step back, an arm to inadvertently shield myself.
"Hey! You can't–"
"Mark, Sam, search the rest of the house for signs of virus!" Two waddled away, one to upstairs, one to the kitchen. The remaining had now grabbed onto my arm, and the rifle still in his hand. "Let's go, you." He tried to tug.
Instead, what he found was I didn't move, but rather he jerked back a step as I danced back. "What–?" And then, on instinct of a pure gut feeling, I pulled him into me.
It was such a wondrous feeling, the assimilation. First there was such an unpleasant sight as a masked face lapsed into mine, then was a feeling of sickness and wrongness as I lost vision when my frontal features split apart. A warm mass was pressed against me, and then suddenly I was full, so full it was as though I ate an entire buffet, yet somehow I wanted more, and so much more. After that was when the waves of sights, sounds, smell, feelings and thoughts came to me. Like a raging river against a floodgate of dust it crashed into my mind, all the memories, heavy with the burden of pain and honor, rushed to me. In mere seconds I had lived another life.
"Bob, you ok?" Sam yelled from upstairs.
I was kneeling heavily on the ground, not replying.
"Bob?" Footsteps came closer, until at the bottom of the stairs the man named Sam cocked his rifle. Too late for him anyways, as I rushed towards him with all the speed of a Sergeant Robert Smith. He attempted to dive away, but was ultimately caught by the foot, my hand's sudden and terrible strength crushing his ankle.
He screamed. It did him no good. By his spasm I pulled him in, and in his screams I devoured his flesh until there was only a content fullness. He was alien like the first, though his memories was not a deadly charge, rather a more moderate thump. Faces flashed into the darkness, and then they settled to the bottom. Now I imagine a well, a well so deep and dark that nothing escapes. Only I have the right to dwell within its depth and review all that I have taken.
Only one left. His name was Mark. From the ruckus outside it was a wonder he didn't come to investigate, until I stepped into the dining room to see a disgruntled Ethan devour a humanoid form in a swirl a red tentacles. It looked like a wrapped ball of spaghetti, sausages and tomato soup all mixed together into a misshapen distortion of a man. To say the least, it was revolting. My gag reflexes acted, though there was nothing to throw up.
"Easy there," I heard a voice say. It was uncomfortably loud, though it had shaken my out of my stupor of disgust.
"Looks … terrible," I managed to choke out.
"Yes," he said lamely, "it does." Then he just sighed, and, whilst shaking his head, walked away, tossing a, "We will need to move soon, lest the military wonders what happened to three of its men," over his shoulder.
I didn't complain.
ooo
And then, only an hour later, before we had even begun to make a move, the ground shook from an artificial earthquake.
Dust fell from the ceiling in a rain of powdery snow. A window shattered to allow a tiny visage on the eclipsed sun. Smoke still bellowed from the north, and it seemed to grow and grow with each passing second. It would only be too soon that the black monster devoured all the rest of the city.
"Let's go. Quickly." I found Ethan at the front door. He stared into the inferno beast, mesmerized, and then, as though slapped, blinked and shook his head.
"Go where?"
"Away from that." He nodded towards the burning city, and the flashes of explosions that were suddenly too close. A horrible roar erupted in that general direction.
"Yeah. Let's hurry."
We walked, and joining us were dozens of others, normal, uninfected civilians, all keeping an wary eye to the back. They buried their heads to the ground, as though afraid if looking up would summon the plague to them. At only a block away, a woman behind us screamed.
I turned to see a monstrous and hairless dog leap a solid fifty feet onto a businessman, who was instantly shredded into a splatter of blood and gore. The creature's teeth shone red in the overcast smoke. The cruel grin lasted only a second before it buried its head in the dead man's chest cavity. I felt sick again, though I managed to fight it down.
"Run!" someone yelled, though it certainly wasn't me, not as I jumped into the air and bashed down onto the creature. It barely looked up before a fist grounded it hard into the asphalt.
Roar! It said back to me. I ignored its howl and charged, visualizing a football player on sports TV, shoulder first, into its side. It fell back, jaws snapping and paws grabbing uselessly. I was too happy with my small victory. I attacked again.
Though this time it saw my intentions. Where I was to go, it was already there. A swipe threw me away. I rolled to lessen the impact, barely evading another swipe as the beast followed up.
"Hiya!" someone yelled, and then another form slammed into the creature. I would have admired Ethan's ferocity, had his arm not being funnily coated in an armor of silver and blackened red. It was sharp, as the monster fell away, bleeding from its heavily packed muscles. Its sharp teeth bared in anger, and its blood-red eyes locked onto Ethan. He was not fazed as it charged, instead cutting more holes into its skin, from which crimson pooled out.
Roar!
And then I did one of the most foolish things I have ever considered myself do: I climbed a tree, and from my advantage of height, jumped down onto the wounded creature, still circling around Ethan's inhuman appendages (they looked like hooks?) on his arms.
I was lucky it was not paying attention to me. The dive was successful, as I landed with enough force to hear a string of sharp cracked in its spine. Its back contorted unnaturally, and then I followed up by smashing its face into the ground. Instinct took over. I evaded the dying creature's wild grab and pounded a fist into its broken back. From where my hand made contact, a web of red erupted, its tentacles drilling into the hard flesh beneath the armored skin. Cold currents channeled from the defeated to the victor. The powerful energy coursing through me was better than any high, leaving me wishing for more. Within seconds there was only a hollow husk, its eye empty, its abdomen gone, and its light faded. I stared into the face of the hideous fiend, and saw nothing but another broken doll. So sad, so alone.
Someone grabbed my arm. "Come on, let's go. There's more of them coming." Only too true. More howls sounded close. The horrible roar was also nearer than before.
"Alright," I heard my distant voice, "let's go." Another earthquake rattled the world.
We ignored the terrified looks of the survivors who would have been dog food seconds sooner and continued our heading. The earth around us shifted in turmoil. A lamppost fell as the ground shook from massive stress. We hurried.
"Look out!"
More of them, almost like a pack of hunters, perched on the side of the buildings like monkeys, their deathly glare surveying the crowd beneath. Overhead a helicopter battled with what looked like a flock of glowing birds, except for bullets barely grazed their wings as they swooped in with deadly speed and power. Farther away a building collapsed to be devoured by the smoke giant.
Something came from the right and gave me one solid whack to the face. I staggered away while shielding myself from further assaults. It was rather ugly, though unlike all the other ugly things, this one was human sized. However, that didn't mean much, not when it screeched loudly into my face and attempted to bite me. How rude! I kicked it away, and much to my surprise, it actually flew away, and impacted against a brick wall with bone shattering force.
"What the…"
I stopped wondering when more of them poured out from who knows where. Ethan's hook latched them on for a wild ride before throwing them back to hit each other like bowling balls. When five of them died quickly, I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Care to tell me how you do that?"
"Maybe later."
Another building fell, though this one was closer. The resulting shockwave sent dust to my eyes.
"What was that?!"
"I don't know, and I don't want to find out."
Except for we did, because when we cleared the tall apartment area, we got a clear look at the behemoth. It was huge, so big it was no smaller than the buildings around it. On its tiny legs stood the body of exposed muscle and bone. One of its eyes was shut, an area in vicinity blackened to explosions and bullets. It was very, very ugly, even worse than the little zombies we had dispatched. Not only was it extremely unbalanced (one arm consisted of a gigantic shield of bone while the other one a thin hook), the sight of its muscles contracting was enough to coil my nonexistent stomach. It swiped at a helicopter, like bugs they were, and missed, instead caving out three floors of an apartment complex.
"Uh oh," he said.
"Uh oh is right," said I.
"Very right," said a voice to my left. I jumped.
A man, so ordinary he did not belong, stood wearing a simply jacket and jeans. He was too staring intently upon the juggernaut which dominated in the one-sided fight against a squad of buzzing missiles and long range artillery. A jet tried to make a bombing run, but was instead squished by a swing from the gigantic shield.
I opened and closed my mouth.
"You two don't belong here." The way the man said it was oddly ominous. Ethan shifted nervously.
"What makes you say that?"
The man snorted in amusement in response. Then he gave both of us a good stare down. "I see the virus in you," he said cryptically.
"What?"
"You two are infected, yet show no symptoms. So either you are completely immune, which is simply not possible, or…" he paused dramatically, "or you have evolved beyond the mindless beasts the virus creates." He almost proclaimed this proudly. "It's the second one, right?" He winked. "So what I recommend you do is follow me, to a safe place from the military." This word he said in spite.
Ethan hesitated. I could tell he didn't trust the man. Yet in a situation so desperate, I could also tell there was no choice. A lifeline was thrown to us; we'd be fools to not take it.
"Fine. We'll go with you. But don't expect us to stay for too long."
The man waved that part off. "Oh no, don't worry. If you hear what we have to say, then you wouldn't even think about leaving any time soon."
That sounded funny.
A/N
Well, how you are liking it so far? (That was a rhetoric question, but feel free to comment your feelings :D)
You should recognize the three infected monsters in the last scene. If not, they are goliath (big guy), flyer and brawler, and you should play [Prototype 2] just for the amazing action. I chose brawler because they simply look more vicious than hunters. New infected species will be introduced later (they're not in the games).
As for who was the man at the end? You can find out who he works for in the next chapter. (And it's not Blackwatch, cuz Blackwatch is disbanded, cuz there's really no way to excuse their actions. But for you Blackwatch enthusiasts out there, Blackwatch personnel and armory will be simply incorporated into the military. Same monster, different name.)
Also, one last word (and this isn't a spoiler for the next chapter), but this story will feature main character deaths and intensive bloody actions (yay!). Just a heads up for those who didn't bother to read the synopsis.
To ZeroAcception: thank you for your support! :D