Maaai booiiissseee
This chapter is legit 20 pages on google docs lol killme.
I haven't finished ch7 yet- but because we're switching perspectives for a bit there are no details to iron out. You guys get to have ch6 early.
3 new OC's in this chapter! They're super cool! I hope you like them! because I've killed them all.
The story is finally starting after 5 chapters lol.
Aight. let's get to it.
Lori's a scrub. (triggerme)
I work hard to make my titles as asinine as possible - and only tangentially related to maybe a line... or word in the chapter. ha. gotem. (Get it? Tangent lines? Haha shoot me)
Reviews keep me from becoming homosexual. But more importantly it keeps THEM from becoming homosexual. #Threatenwithyaoi #Idneverdoit #selfhatred #StateofFF2018. Lol jk do whateve u want. gimme at least a week for the next chapter- i need to send in 10page lab reports every week until June and they eat up my time. My life is hell.
A beam of light shown down through the heavy air. It's soft circle of illumination fell on the damp sidewalk and lit up the mustang's silver tire-caps. The ground was misty, it seemed to breathe. The moon had shrouded itself in fat heavy clouds. The dark veil sent down a light drizzling rain, filling the air with an opaque grey noise. Thunder murmured from afar.
The light danced solemnly upon the raindrops until it was interrupted by the dark shadow of Iori stepping outside his flat. The figure stood a moment before it began descending the staircase. The beam lit his back as he proceeded.
He had cleaned himself up considerably; he no longer looked like the devil. Instead he looked like he belonged in intensive care. He had taped gauze all over, and sported a darkening bruise on his cheek. He even managed to pop a vein in his eye, the blood dyed his sclera bright red. He looked positively miserable.
A grinding noise accompanied him as he descended the steps. He was dragged the corner of his thumbnail against the railing as he walked, scraping the surface layer off. The thin steel shredding lifted up from the the railing's surface, trailing him as it curled in on itself. When he reached the bottom it dropped to the ground to join a number of identically long metal shavings.
The landlady hated when he did that. At first she was shocked he was carving up steel with his bare hands, but after a couple times it just became a nuisance to her. He imagined how she might have complained to her friends about him. "This tenant keeps shredding my railings! I can see his finger-marks in the metal whenever I go there!"
He allowed himself a small chuckled, but his expression didn't change. He continued to stare solemnly into the street from the bottom of the staircase. The rain echoed as it hit the awning that covered the length of the steps. He watched the rain run down the sides of the plastic canopy as he finished his cigarette.
Umbrella?
He decided against it. He didn't want to carry it around. Anyways, it was hot and the rain was welcome. Better yet it would keep the insects out of the air. Iori was tired of their constant droning.
He tossed the cigarette butt into the street and began jogging.
There was a hospital several miles from his flat. He was going there to search for medical supplies, he needed painkillers and some sutures. Perhaps some bandages too, I'm running low. He could have taken a car, but he needed some distraction. Running always provided that to him.
Take it easy though.
Half an hour ago Iori pulled up in front of his house, carried a duffel bag and an unconscious man upstairs, then took a shower. While changing his bandages he noticed the particularly nasty crescent shaped gash in his side had reopened. It was a centimeter deep and wept blood. He had done his best to tape it shut, but it was too deep to be sealed properly from the surface.
He would need to sew it up.
He slowed down a bit. Trying not to agitate the wound. It sent a dull ache through his core.
I still don't remember where that came from… Riot usually lets me know after a day or two. Sometimes he even cuts himsel- cuts me.
Iori focused on sidewalk. He didn't want to think right now. He needed a break from managing the voices in his head. He felt like he had been tasked to babysit a couple of psychopathic murders - and it wore on him. Sometimes it became so tedious he just went to sleep to be free from them. And if they didn't let him sleep he chugged melatonin.
Abandoned cars and debris were strewn about the street. Was that a mattress? There was a kitchen sink. Who would throw their sink out the window?
He stepped off the sidewalk to avoid a corpse which hung from an overturned vehicle. He turned his nose at it. It stank.
'They're stinking' the thought burned in his brain, interrupting his blissful mindlessness. 'The corpses stink. The zombies…. They're not dead. They're alive. They're alive. They're animals, They're humans, They're people. They're innoc-'
Can you not?
Iori growled. He didn't want a reality check. He was here to forget. He would deal with the zombies when they woke up the next day. The thought subsided, but tugged at his conscience.
Tomorrow morning, he would violently dispatch anyon- any'thing' that stood in his way. This was how he worked. Iori didn't break his commitments. And he had committed himself to violence this afternoon when he sent Riot out to rampage in the streets.
He breathed heavily as he ran. The rain was cool on his skin. He tasted metal in his throat, his tongue was still bleeding from when he bit himself earlier.
They were zombies. They were attacking him. So who cares if they didn't feel like opponents? This was America, and lethal self defense was perfectly legal.
Even if he went out of his way to kill them. Nobody would care - they were monsters anyways... no. They were just his prey. He was gong to hunt them down and kill them. The had killed Old Fart. They had killed his Landlady. They had killed his band. They had caused chaos in his city. They had ruined his peaceful existence. He hated being violent, but they had forced his hand.
Now they would taste his violence! Violence like they'd never seen!
Heat began building behind his eyes. He blinked.
Calm down Yagami. Relax. We can think about that later, okay?.
He conceded and looked to the sky. It was shrouded in puffy dark clouds. Rain fell on his face. The thoughts drifted away.
The moon was dark. Iori navigated by the light from buildings and streetlamps. He was glad the electricity was still on in his area, a few parts of the city had already been plunged into darkness. He didn't expect the power to fail after only a few days of neglect, but SouthTown was quite a large city with quite a large grid.
He rounded a corner and almost cringed as an obnoxiously bright light assaulted his eyes.
It was a tire store. It's white lights beamed out, illuminating the streets around it. It was a beacon of light, of hope, in the dark city. But Iori steered away, opting to run on the opposite sidewalk. He didn't want to investigate. He wouldn't, because he was afraid of what he might see. Was the building's floor filled with crouching zombies? Would he have to kill them? Look at their faces? He didn't want-
What? Hey! Stop that. Just run.
It took a moment for the image to dissolve. A knot began forming in his stomach. The wound on his side itched.
Easy there. Forget about that. Don't think. Run.
Iori closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.
That's right. Relax. There we go… Left here, then straight for another half mile.
He stared forward into the rain. It pattered softly against the pavement and began forming small puddles. Thunder grumbled in the distance, he could just make out tiny flashes of light dancing through far-off clouds. Street lamps stood proudly in their places, craning their elegant necks to shine warm yellow light over him. The road shimmered as light danced on the rain. Occasionally he would pass oil slicks in the asphalt. They looked like melted rainbows being washed down the streets.
It was quiet and peaceful.
But not just his surroundings.
The quietness in his mind was almost profound.
How long has it been since he'd last been free from their voices? A month? A year? Not even Riot's ever present rumble could be heard. Iori didn't know why they were silent, perhaps they had gotten tired? Who knows what they were thinking. There was a madhouse in his brain. But tonight it was a quiet madhouse.
Iori cherished his silence. He relished it as if it were the sweetest music.
Two miles more. The rain was coming down harder now. He had laid his small towel over his head because the heavy raindrops stung when they hit. The cloth flopped about as he ran, threatening to fall away with the jostling. He had to stop and pick it up several times.
He needed it there - but not because the rain hurt. He needed to hide the sad empty streets from his view. Hide the crouching figures who moaned and muttered. The discarded debris in the streets that screamed chaos and abandonment. He could do without thinking about them - at least for now. He wanted to preserve his peace. He wanted to enjoy his silence.
They're just animals Yagami. Animals dressed like people. They're not victims. Don't you remember? Kusojiji-
Shut up. I don't want to hear it.
He continued running, he had unconsciously increased his pace. The voice stirred him, caused his mind to wander against his wishes.
Where is Riot? Orochi? What are they doing? Are they scheming? Waiting for my guard to go down? … No. Stop. They won't attack anymore. It's been three times. Don't worry…
He listened to the sound of his shoes slapping the pavement. A cat hissed at him and scurried out of his path.
The new guy… where is he? What's he doing?
His eye itched. His throat burned.
Are they really just animals? Am I lying to myself? What if-
He gritted his teeth.
They're not men and women. They're not even people. Not even living things. They're just there - like rocks or phantoms. They're not worth my time.
As he rounded another corner he caught sight of a figure. The creatures' glassy eyes reflected lamplight back a him from behind a glass storefront. The person crouched in the fetal position, their hands tucked neatly between their knees and chin. She stared at him. Her dark eyes, wet with tears, followed his movements. Iori felt sick. His stomach twisted violently within him. A burning sensation began festering in his chest.
Just objects. Nothing more, nothing less. Yagami, kill them. You've got to. They broke your peace. How dare they break your peace.
He ran. Streetlights were zipping past. But he couldn't outrun the strange burning. What did it say? What did it want? Where did it come from?
Kill them. Don't hesitate, Don't hesitate. Right or wrong, follow through. Choose your position and defend it. Defend it to the death. Those bastards deserve to die… And you've chosen.
Guilt? Him? Feeling guilt? There was no room in his head for remorse. Iori Yagami didn't feel guilt. He was sprinting now. So… what was this?
We're going to kill them Yagami. Because that's what we said. And we're stubborn. And we keep all our promises. And that's how we work! That's how we've always worked. That's how we've survived in this piece of shit world!
Iori Yagami tore down the streets of SouthTown. He panted as he splashed through puddles, leapt over debris and hoods of cars in his way. His guts were wrenched, tied into knots. He was sweating, but not from exertion.
Animals Yagami! Just walking objects! Don't you dare. Don't turn from the path you've chosen. You don't have the luxury to be a coward. Face it. Embrace it. Kill them!
He knew it. He knew it. His mind was made up. He would kill them. Even if they weren't animals, even if they were people - victims of some otherworldly disease, he would slaughter them. He would kill them even if they didn't deserve it. He had decided that. Right or wrong, he would do it.
So why? Why did he feel enough guilt to make him sick? He hadn't even done anything! This wasn't normal. This wasn't normal at all. Had Orochi been suppressing his emotions? Or was this sensation his doing? Did Riot keep him from feeling remorse? Is this what normal people felt when they killed?
Are you doubting yourself? Are you crazy? Are you suicidal? Iori Yagami cannot afford to doubt himself. Riot, Orochi, Newguy - they all want you. They're waiting for you to falter. To doubt. They'll tear you down. They'll take over. So, get your shit together Yagami and kill those animals. Kill them. Kill them. You need to, for your own sake. Kill them. Tear them apart. TEAR THEM TO PIECES.
"Who the hell are you!" Iori shouted into the rain. He started at the sound of his own voice. It echoed against empty buildings. He felt himself becoming increasingly angry as he ran. He was angry. And he was confused. Whose thoughts were these? Which thoughts were his? Who was that voice? Was it him? Was somebody controlling him? Orochi? Riot? Newguy? Where were they? Why couldn't he hear them? And where was this guilt coming from? That must be his, Right? Had it been suppressed? How much had he been manipulated thus far?
His eyes were wild. His heartbeat pounded in his head. He ran at full tilt.
Don't you dare lose yourself! Don't you dare. The moment you doubt you've been defeated. You've only survived by your sheer stubbornness. You said you'd do it, so do it. DO IT. KILL THEM.
He swung around another corner. The streets were flowing with water. He felt the grip on his sneakers slip, it sent him skidding into a parked car. He smacked into the metal chassis. Hard. His vision jarred.
Time stood still. Iori sank his fingers through the car's roof as he clung to it. He felt dizzy, endorphins mixed with adrenaline in his brain. He glanced down. There was a red spot forming on his shirt. The impact had caused the wound in his gut to stretch open. He felt hot liquid seep out.
The pain hadn't hit yet… it was coming.
He squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath.
Oh Fuuck.
He convulsed. The roof of the car cracked as the metal deformed under his grip. He pressed his forehead against the car window. There were stars in his eyes - white flashes. His mind went blank.
But he didn't stop. He pushed himself off the car and lurched back into the street. He started running again. The stain in his side continued to grow, he jammed an elbow down on it. The rain pelted him from above. It blurred his vision and soaked through his hair. He had lost his towel. As he ran the wound screamed. Pain egged at his mind, ringing like a bell. It blotted the thoughts out. It's pealing reverberated through him. Shaking him, trying to break him.
It shook him. It burned him. It cleansed him. It anchored him.
He listened to the tolling. He gave it the attention it craved. He rushed into it. It washed over him, under him, through him. It saturated his being. It confirmed him.
Welcome back Yagami.
He was back. He would never fall. The world was simple. If Orochi influenced him - so be it. If Riot screamed at him, it didn't matter. Was he to suffer guilt now? Fine. Nothing had changed. Nothing needed to change. All he needed to do was suffer.
I'm alive. And I fight. And I hurt. That's all I need to know. That's all I need.
Iori threw his head back and smiled grimly into the night as the pain wracked through him. It's earsplitting ringing had brought him to his senses. That tolling agony had been his salvation. He let it flow through his head and tint his vision.
It's been too long. Too long.
Iori had ignored the bell for a long time. He had to, he couldn't afford to be distracted by it. The ringing woke the Riot up. It stirred Orochi awake. And they were crafty. They knew pain made him weak. Hearing the bell was inviting them to attack.
So he never listened. He blotted it from his mind - he resisted his pain like his life depended on it. Because sometimes it did.
But tonight Riot was in a deep slumber, Orochi was nowhere to be found. Three times today they tried to take over, but there wouldn't be a fourth uprising. There never was, and tonight there wouldn't be. They might talk, murmur softly in his mind, but they never attacked. They were reliable guys. They Iori was left to savor his pain like a rare delicacy.
That's right. Hold on. Hold on to your promise. You're only responsible to yourself. That's how we work right Yagami? And we'll suffer for it. Like always.
Yeah. That's how he'd been living. That's how he would continue to live. Nothing changed. Fight. Suffer. Peace…. Break it. Fight. Then do it again. And again.
Iori fixed his eyes on the Hospital. The pain in his gut bolted him to reality. That was all he needed. A goal and an anchor. Life was simple again.
He rounded another corner, more slowly this time. He could hear his pulse in his head.
The rain was coming down hard. His sneakers were soaked from running through puddles. They made unpleasant squishing noises with every step. His clothes were soggy too, they slapped against him as he raced down the street. Fat lukewarm raindrops splattered against the pavement and leaked off building gutters. The sounds of flowing water echoed from the city.
It was becoming decidedly miserable out, and for a moment, Iori wished he were home. Then he remembered who was sleeping in his bed.
The little shit. He's the reason I'm even out here!
He wouldn't go home. He couldn't be home. He needed to put some distance between himself and Kusanagi, because he wasn't allowed to kill the bastard until morning.
Just wait there Kyo. I'll beat you into the ground when I get back.
About an hour ago, after Iori carried his 'groceries' into the kitchen, he went to shake his passenger awake. But instead of getting up like he was supposed to, Kyo - still unconscious- swatted him in the gut and split his stomach wound wide open.
After a few moments of gasping, hunched on the ground, He stood up, slung Kyo over his shoulders and carried him up to his apartment.
Then threw him bodily onto the headboard.
If I didn't keep so many pillows, asshole would've snapped his neck. What a fucking shame.
Silence. No rumbling.
Oh. Forgot. Riot's asleep… Ha!
Iori grinned. It felt good be angry without that guy's bloodlust invading his thoughts. Whenever the Riot stirred awake its wrath bled into him. All of his mental roommates influenced his moods to a degree, but Riot was the most prominent. Orochi was less of a nuisance because he didn't show up as often. And the new guy? Well, his voice was all but drowned out by Riot and Orochi. Iori had nearly forgotten about him. What did he want again? Oh right, he wanted to eat guts. Maybe he would crave intestine soup from now on? It didn't really matter.
I already try to eat people when Riot's in charge anyways. Newguy hasn't brought anything new.
... But I do wonder where he came from…
Ah, here we are.
The hospital came into view and Iori shelved his thoughts.
The streetlights were on, but the large building was dark. There were no lights in the windows. The building's electricity had gone out… but the storefront nextdoor was brightly lit. Had somebody cut the power lines? Maybe there were survivors living there and they turned out the lights for the evening? Either way Iori had no intention of finding out. He just wanted to pilfer some medical supplies and he would be on his way.
Iori jogged down the driveway that ran along the side of the building, careful not to fall on the slick pavement. He was looking for the emergency room. He figured it would house all the supplies he needed. He didn't want to search the entire building of he could help it.
The light from the road only penetrated so far down the alley. Iori continued until it grew too dark for him to see. He stood there, panting in the rain as he waited for his eyes to adjust. The pain in his gut had become dull and numb. He re-adjusted the tape to again seal the wound closed. Then he pulled a half empty water bottle out of his pocket and drained it. The plastic bag he'd brought crinkled from the movement.
He had visited this hospital once before. The band's drummer had broken his leg in a skateboarding accident and needed a cast. Iori had offered to set the bones in a splint for him. He was pretty good at it, he had told him, he had plenty of practice. But the drummer didn't believe him, he hollered and cried until Iori dumped him outside the nearest hospital.
Then they messed up your leg Dave. You needed surgery to fix … whatever nonsense they pulled.
The rain was coming down in sheets now. The thunder was drawing nearer. Iori pressed himself against the wall, there was a small overhang that shielded him from most of the rain. He could see, but not well. At least he wouldn't walk into walls. He planned on using his phone light once he got inside the building anyways. And in the worst case scenario, he could always light his way with flames.
He proceeded slowly, groping around the building until he found an entrance. He could make out the word "EMERGENCY" printed in large red letters against the white building. The emergency department stuck out past the hospital's main structure. It was perhaps two storeys high.
Good. It's small. I don't want to search too long.
The large glass doors had been shattered and hung from their hinges. Glass shards covered the ground outside. Somebody had smashed their way out through here.
How many zombies are here right now? Ten? a hundred?
Iori flicked on his cellphone and ducked into the building. He walked as silently as he could. The circle of fluorescent light lit his path. It was very quiet. Too quiet perhaps? He listened for breathing, or muttering - searching for any indication of zombies in the area. He would kill any that blocked his path.
There were none.
Empty? That's… very fortunate.
He stalked past the foyer. Keeping his eyes peeled for figures in the dark as he entered the back room. There were several corpses strewn about, all had been shot in the head. But there were no crouching infected. The survivors here must have been well armed.
Fast Yagami. In and Out. Lets go.
Plastic curtains hung from the ceilings. They created many small sectioned off rooms along the walls. Each held a bed and a monitoring device of some kind. They formed a long hallway down the center of the room. At the end of the hall was an elevator and a stairwell. There were also several large heavy tables near the back, they were stacked with medical equipment. Large cabinets lined the back wall.
One of the cabinets had it's door wrenched off. It's contents were scattered across the floor. Iori approached it rapidly. He had found what he was looking for. He pulled out his plastic bag, shook the rainwater off, and squatted down over the mess.
With the help of his phone-light, he began shopping.
Sutures, check… bandages- not these, find clean ones.… any painkillers? Maybe a tourniquet for heavy bleeding.
Iori had always performed his own medical procedures. He didn't trust doctors. He had too many enemies to place his life in the hands of a stranger... And he was quite proud of his proficiency in 'field medicine'. He had sewn up his own bullet wounds before, snapped joints into place, set and splint bones, once he had extracted glass shards from between his ankle joints.
What are these… Alcohol wipes? Nah don't need 'em…. Ah, the gauze. There.
Medical treatment for him was purely mechanical. Iori didn't get sick. He didn't get infections. There was so much poison running through his veins that bacteria and viruses just didn't bother him. Mosquitoes, the flu, all sorts of bugs turned their noses at cursed Orochi blood. And since he didn't need to worry about contamination, Iori's 'wet' medical procedures were unsanitary at their best and downright disgusting at their worst. They would probably kill a normal person.
Are these staples? Staples are good too. Oh! Surgical tape… nice!
Satisfied, Iori stood up and walked over to another cabinet to look for painkillers. He pulled several bottles of pills off the shelves and read their labels before replacing them.
C'mon. C'mon… I don't recognize this stuff… the hell is oxycodo-… Wait, ibuprofen? Yes!
"Hey."
Iori whirled towards the whispering, ready to tear into someone. His light illuminated a person peeking out from behind the cabinet on the far side of the room. They squinted at him.
"Hey, who are you? Your not with them right?'
It was an older man, American, maybe 50? He wore a set of glasses, but one of the lenses was missing. He was sitting on the floor. His knee was wrenched in an odd position.
"Who the fuck" Iori snarled. He dropped his bag and turned completely to face the figure. He pocketed his phone, plunging them into darkness, and raised his arms - ready for combat.
"Hey, hey, easy big guy. Be quiet ok?" The man hushed him frantically "the guys upstairs will hear you."
Guys upstairs? Survivors?
"Who?"
"The military, or some SWAT team. They came through here and killed everyone." The man's voice was quivering.
The military is here?... Kusanagi you lying prick.
Iori replied in a hushed whisper. "They killed the zombies you mean… Those guys?" Iori motioned to one of the corpses near the entrance. "Hey man, that's a good thing. They can get us out."
Iori took out his light back out and looked toward the stairwell. Glasses squinted at him for a moment, contemplating. Then he shook his head.
"Sorry kid. I'm gonna fall soon, and you've… you've got it too" Glasses whispered sadly. "They're here to kill us. And they won't rescue survi- Wait... they're coming!"
"What?"
"I said they're coming! Hide! Play dead! Just be quiet! Don't let them see you!" Glasses whispered. He ducked behind the cabinet.
I've got it? The infect- no. That's impossible.
The sound of stomping boots echoed from the stairwell. Iori had become agitated.
Impossible.
"Wait! What do you mean I've got it?! The hell have I got?!" Iori's voice grew increasingly louder. "Hey!"
"Shut up. Please. Be quiet! They'll hear!" Glasses whimpered from behind the cabinet.
Fuck it. Yeah. They'll hear. I'll make sure they do.
Iori grabbed his shopping bag and stomped over to the stairwell door. He slammed it open and looked up at the spiraling steps. There was the sound of boots, but there were no lights. They must've been using night-vision. He yelled into the darkness.
"Anyone there!? Hello-o!"
The stomping stopped.
There was no way the military was there to kill zombies. Why would they risk it? It would be much easier to just shoot the infected from a helicopter, they wandered the streets during the day anyways. No. This team was here for something else. Most likely for either information or survivors.
"You're Military right? I'm not a zombie! Get me out of here!"
Glasses had to be lying. Little bitch said he was infected? There was no way - what did he know. Everyone was lying to him. Kusanagi, Glasses, fuck them both. This team could get him out of this hellish city.
"Hey! Hello?"
Silence.
… shit. Why aren't they saying anything! Are they just staring at me?
There was the sound of shuffling from above - then the distinctive click of a rifle's safety. Iori bristled.
No way. No fucking way.
His mind reeled.
Are you fucking kidding me?
Adrenaline smashed into his brain. He was suddenly keenly alert - and time seemed to slow. He wanted to bolt. But the stairwell was a narrow concrete box. The gunman would expect him to run out the door. He wouldn't escape that way.
Listen. Breathe.
He would need to dodge the bullet before it was fired, which was fine if he could see where the gunman was. But doing it blind was a different story. Left? Right? If he dove too early, he would be killed while on the ground. If he ran too late he would be shot standing up. Sound didn't travel fast enough, his reflexes were good - but not good enough. He would die as as heard the shot go off. Nobody could dodge sniper fire in the dark…
Nobody but him. Iori could do it. Because Iori fought by instinct. He moved by instinct. He sensed things almost like magic. Jump. Move. Duck. Run. The small voice in his mind would direct him. His reflexes guided him… nobody could touch him.
But look what happens when you relax! You get your stomach split open by an unconscious person. Good riddance.
He stood still. Alert. Tense. Listening.
And listening. Listening carefully in the dark. He listened for that soft voice, his instinct, his intuition, that gentle impulse that had saved his life time and time again.
Finally it spoke to him.
It said Move.
He lunged to the side. A bullet cracked into the tile where he was last standing. A shout from above: 'kill!'. The stomping resumed. It was getting closer and louder. They were coming down the stairs. Iori ran.
He tore through the door, past Glasses who shook terrified in the corner and into the parking lot. The rain was pounding down. Thunder grumbled. The adrenaline in his veins rushed to his head. His cheeks flushed, he felt anger flow down through him.
These fucks. How dare they! What kind of government response is this?
Iori whirled back toward the building and sprinted to the hospital's exterior wall. He concentrated a moment before digging his fingers into the concrete. He climbed rapidly, leaving finger sized holes in a trail between EMERGENCY's N and C.
Kill them Yagami.
He clambered onto the roof and moved until he was directly above the doors. His plastic bag crinkled. Iori dropped it before approaching the edge. There he crouched, listening.
A gunshot. A scream. They echoed in the night to a backdrop of rain and thunder.
I guess Glasses wasn't lying after all.
The rain pounded down. The thunder boomed. Iori strained his ears.
…
There. The crunch of a boot stepping on glass. They had come outside. Iori exhaled a long breath and hopped off the edge.
He fell. His heart flew to his throat. Water droplets hung suspended all about him. Time slowed. Lightning cracked overhead.
Let's pull a page from Riot's book.
Then he lit up. A purple blaze burst out, it coated him from head to toe. The violent flames consumed the liquid in the air immediately. His clothes dried in an instant. Pain filled his brain as fire shrouded his body. His mind turned off. Instinct kicked in. He grinned a horrible smile.
Five.
He caught a glimpse of them as he fell. The flashing inferno which proceeded from him illuminated the figures below. There were four dressed in tactical gear and wielding guns. The fifth party member had his arms tied behind his back and a bandana over his face - he walked at the front of the group.
They looked up to see a red haired man drop on them like a burning missile.
Head.
Iori ducked to one side. A bullet whizzed by his ear - through the fire. It landed with a splat on the concrete wall and began to dribble trails of molten lead.
Fight.
Four soldiers became four corpses. Three had been bisected, their smouldering guts spilled to the ground. Iori had charred the last one down to the waist when he landed on the unfortunate man's shoulders.
Beautiful.
The fifth man screamed and tried to run, but he couldn't move quickly enough while bound. He looked like a prisoner, but wore the same uniform as his late comrades. He must have been one of them.
Iori lunged at him, extinguishing the flames before tackling him to the ground. He planted a knee on the back of the man's neck and wrapped one hand around his throat. The man shouted and fought to throw his attacker off - to no avail. Iori reached over and sank a finger deep into the asphalt. He dragged it through the pavement toward the man's face. It made a horrible grinding noise. The fifth man stared at it in frozen horror as it approached.
Iori stopped ripping the pavement a couple of inches from Five's face. Then leaned over to growl into his ear.
"Talk, or die."
A nod. A muffled, choking noise.
"Are you Military?"
"SWAT. Were just looking for info… interpol…. They just need info. There's infections everywhere" Five's voice was muffled by the bandanna. His speech wavered - but quickly steadied. He glared defiantly at Iori with one eye. Another American, this time in his mid-thirties. He had a crooked nose and a scar across his eyebrow.
"Everywhere? Not just in SouthTown?" Iori tightened his grip.
"In-incubation time… it varies. Days even. Some evacu- some people they got out, bu-but they were infected... Some flew away. Infections… Start- Ack!" Five had silently begun removing the ties around his wrists. Iori saw it,grabbed the man by the hair and slammed his head into the concrete. Blood leaked, it was immediately washed away by the torrential rain. Five gasped in pain. Iori heard the sound of grinding teeth.
"Fuck! Get off me!"
"Answer and you'll walk. Why did you shoot at me."
He didn't answer. He just stared. Iori let the fingers around the man's throat pierce the skin - enough to draw blood.
"Talk!" Iori's patience had always drained at a legendary pace.
Five murmured something.
"What was that? What did you say?"
The man raised his head. His eyes were hard. "You… you really won't like what I have to say kid... Just let me go."
Little shit. I'll rip your lungs out.
"Talk bitch" Iori hissed. "Talk. Or I'll make you look like your friends. But it'll be slow."
Five lay there, squeezing his bound hands open and shut. The rain had washed the blood from the other SWAT members in their direction. Trails of red streaked past them.
"You… you're infected."
Huh?
"What did you say?" Iori's voice was deadly calm. But his panic was evident. "Say that again. Say it clearly"
Me? I am?
Five reared up violently causing Iori to flinch. He twisted around to face his captor. There was a snarl on his face. His eyes burned with fever. He spoke slowly.
"I said you're fucking infected. Can you hear me? Do you understand? You're gonna be one of those zombies soon! Maybe you'll last a few hours. Even a few days if you're lucky... But sooner or later you'll join them. You can't fight it. Nobody can."
Iori didn't move, but his face must have shown something. Because Five's anger quickly turned to sadness. The man flopped back to the ground and spoke into the concrete.
"Then we'll bathe this place in Sarin. Clean up the mess. Start new… But the two of us... we won't be part of it."
Thunder crackled overhead.
"What?! No. NO! Are you fucking kidding me?" Iori scrambled to his feet. "What the fuck! What the fuck!?"
No way. There's no way. I'll never be one of those things.
"... Sorry kid." Five had managed to sit up. He had untied his bonds. Iori didn't notice.
Shit. Shit. Glasses said the same thing right? Glasses said I was infected… No way. There's no way… Am.. Am I?
Iori's vision swam before him. He had been so concerned with killing zombies that the idea he might become one had never crossed his mind. How could he forget? It was an infection! It was contagious! But… but how did they know? Glasses… and now Five, how could they tell? Could both be wrong? Riot! Where was Riot! and Orochi!? Where did they go? Did the infection kill them? Was he-
Move.
Wha-?
I said MOVE.
Iori dove to the side as an armoured truck smashed into the building beside him. It's headlights were off.
Five? no way? that was too fast!
He whipped around to look at where the man should be laying. There was nobody there. Iori scrambled to his feet and ran for the alley. A bullet whizzed by his head - Five must have shot through the window.
He rounded the corner and flew up the side of the building, climbing faster than he thought he could. His gasped for breath. Adrenaline pumped through him. His heart pounded in his throat. He grabbed his plastic bag and ran. And Ran. And Ran.
...
From the base of the hospital, beeping issued from inside the black armoured vehicle.
Then static.
… Hello Gamma 5, this is Alpha 1. What is your location, do you need backup? Over.
" Alpha 1, this is… it's George Dimas…from Gamma 5, no assistance needed. Relay a message to command. We are not outfitted with encryption to bypass comms jam. Over"
Copy.
"Reporting highly dangerous infected individual. Asian, early to mid twenties, red hair dye. Last spotted near Hospital in Central district. Headed west. Purple fire and claws - possibly that one Tournament fighter. Took out our entire team in an instant. Over."
… Casualties? Dimas do you need medical? Over.
"Alpha 1, It's a bite. I'll be gone soon. Over."
Officer George Dimas, lock yourself inside your vehicle and equip a gas mask. 12 hours until we drop Sarin over central. We will extract you after we've cleared the area.
"Copy. But just in case, send another message... to my wife and my son... Tell them Dad loves them very much, and he'll be home soon. Over."
Copy that Dimas. May God be with you.
"Thank you. Dimas Out."
NOTES:
Details concerning wound depth(continued).
Ok let's do some math. The skin calipers test is a rough method of estimating body fat % via pinching the skin and measuring it. The dermis thickness is counted twice using this method, so we will subtract 2mm from our final measurement. Our goal is to reach 1 cm before getting through muscle. All these values are lowballs for the average human male. So take into account Lori's ripped asf. Let's gets started. You're abs begin to show at 13% body fat - let's cut our boi's down to 10 and we get a fat+dermis(corrected) layer of 20mm(2cm). Then, under dermis and subcutaneous are there are our abdominal muscle. They are ordered from 'outside' to 'inside'. External abdominal oblique, internal abdominal oblique, transverse abdominis. EO average to 7.4mm, IO= 10.8mm TA= 4.2. Total of 22.6mm=2.26 cm.
In conclusion, our wound didn't even get halfway through the subcutaneous(fat) layer. There isn't much blood flow there so Iori won't bleed to death yay. (Gain weight if u wanna survive a stabbing). (I wanted to find a blood loss volume for you guys, but it seems like nobody wrote an equation for how much you bleed from a hypothetical wound. Sorry)
When you pop a vein in your eye it's called a subconjunctival hemorrhage. You can get it from getting punched in the face, or sometimes from sneezing too hard. It doesn't hurt. It just itches - i can confirm from experience. Don't google it its kinda creepy. Iori gets it every time he preforms this one move in KOF14 - which makes no biological sense. How dare they make their purple fire guy heal from a mild eye injury in only a few moments! 0/10 game.
"Oh shit. This story is about Iori becoming 'more human' and realizing the pain he causes when he hurts ppl!" Lol. No. don't worry he's gonna be unhinged all the way to the end. That's plot right there, you'll see the significance later on. never change fireguy, never change.
I don't know what Wiki is saying when they claim Yag fights with "Yakasani style... and instinct". wth does 'instinct' mean? So i just took liberties. And i think I took too many. powercreep - not even once. It doesn't matter cuz he's an idiot but still.
Iori never getting infections because 'he's too poisonous' is whatev. But by that line of logic, he shouldn't be able to get drunk either - or be affected by drugs which travel via bloodstream(painkilers etc...). so yeah. gg. just roll w/ it fam.
ibuprofen is a painkiller, so is oxycodone.
Sarin is a colourless, odorless nerve toxin classified as a Weapon of Mass Destruction. A person dies after 1-10 minutes due to paralysis of lung muscles. It is liquid at room temperature, but is highly volatile. The toxin can enter the body via either inhalation or through the skin. There is an antidote - but it must be administered immediately. Our bois are in trouble lol.
*Science shit start
The power output required to melt a lead bullet as it passes over your shoulder can be calculated using simple physics. There are two steps in this process. First, we need to calculate the energy needed to heat the object. In this case, 30C to the melting point of Lead, that is 327C. Then we must find the mass of the bullet(40g) and the specific heat of lead(127)- which are constants we can just google for. (Q=mc\Delta(t)) The energy needed is 1511.3J. Next we need to melt the metal. Google for Lead's heat of fusion(J/mol), change mass to mols and multiply to get the total energy needed to melt solid lead into liquid lead. 921.74 J. Total energy output is 2433.04J.
Next consider the speed of the bullet(370m/s) and the width of the flame(~0.5m) to estimate the time by which this total power is applied. The total time is 0.00135s. So the energy output/time (technically the term is wattage lol) sits at a pretty 1.8million J/s.
*Science shit end.
Tldr: melting a bullet as it passes over your shoulder taxes a ridiculous amount of energy. Like marvel levels of power lol. but it sounded cool when i wrote it. Totes not canon btw.
BUT THATS JUST A THEORY! A GAAAME THEORY.
Temperature gradient not accounted for.
Was originally gonna make Dimas some sniveling idiot, but then decided that SWAT/military personnel are badass asf. Fun fact, Dimas is thet guy who tried to recruit me into the Navy once. He had the longest eyelashes I've ever seen on a person. They were shocking. Gave me a lanyard too. Still use it. I think Dimas is my fave character so far after Old Fart, whos based off this YouTube vid I saw of this Mexican driver... If you don't remember him, he died before the story even started lol.
Are you wondering why Kyo mentioned getting recognized in the streets in Ch2, but Iori never mentioned having fans despite being a big shot in KOF tournaments? It's because I completely forgot lol. I'll address it during ch7 i guess? Sry.
There is a single, very deliberate contradiction in this chapter - Iori says he never catches diseases and infections, and this holds true. Then we got Glasses + Dimas saying he's got the zombie disease. (the mechanics of the disease will be explained l8r). This is intentional and might give u a hint as to the nature of our zombie apocolype. cheers GUEST
Iori just names ppl lol.
Kyo coming back next chapter. We're done with Lori for a bit.