The radiant sun had just begun to rise over the distance horizon, painting the cloudless sky shades of pink and orange. It's light glinted off the windows, rabbit ears, and satellite dishes of the vast suburban city of Fairfield. A couple of birds were twittering a song of forgotten peace that sounded like tiny gospel bells, but they suddenly flew away as a zombie appeared and attempted to grab one. The infected took no notice to the wonders of the morning in this quiet world; they merely hobbled along the streets looking for something that could not be found. What that is, is still a mystery.

Up on a rooftop, in the shadow of a red and brown brick chimney, a black velvet mass coated with dew shifted, then opened like the petals of a gothic flower to reveal the purple haired FET inside. She had bags under her eyes, the color of them almost matching that of her hair, suggesting she didn't sleep too well. What a night it had been, so much had happened, bad stuff. FET had managed to escape any negative confrontations with the Survivors and take refuge in the dark of the night. Thankfully no infected had disturbed her, leaving her in peace as she watched with a heavy heart as the chopper came and rescued them from Mercy Hospital, taking her way out of here with them. She fallowed the helicopter's path with her Zoom Eyes, until it was a speck in the distance. Now, she couldn't be sure, but just as it had gone out of her view, she thought she saw it fall. She had no memory of this ever happening, but maybe she was just forgetting it. Still, what was she going to do? FET had never been in a situation like this before, it was always she would go to a world for a day to a week or more, see some local sights, then leave via the traditional linking book. Never before had she lost it to the hands of someone else…. Well, now that FET thought about it, that wasn't true. Alessa hadn't let her leave Silent Hill for sometime, but FET knew it was for her own good and sanity.

FET put a dirty dried blood hand to her throat and felt it, making sure if it was there now. It seemed to be all right, the wound had healed all the way, but there was still a matter of her voice box. Looking around a bit, sniffing the air, and listening to make sure no zombies were nearby, she coughed, testing the clarity of her vocal cords, then went though the musical pitches taught in most Earth worlds. There was a slight prickling sensation in the back of her throat as she sang the highest pitch. Her esophagus must have been in the last stages of healing, but at least she could speak. She dreaded the feeling of not being able to talk.

This predicament with her vocal cords reminded FET all too well of her silent years, the worst years of her life. The mere thought of that time made FET's stomach feel queasy. It had been the days when she wasn't an Alucard Hybrid yet, the days when her hair was still brown and body was still vulnerable to pain. Immortal she was at the time, but still of a human body and mind. On her twenty-fifth Molonara birthday, or seventh in Earth time, a disaster and miracle had befallen her. The good part was that she managed to journey to the Ages of Myst, a world created by the minds of humans that created, played, and loved it, as was the same for all the worlds she visited. There she learned the Art and taught Plink, her creation, the secrets of its wondrous power, granting her many worlds created by the human fan to travel to.

But there was a downside to this gift. When she had gone through the Zone Gate to the unknown that became the Star Fissure, her prison. There she just existed, and entered a long sleep. When she awoke, she found she no longer had the ability to speak. It was a mystery as to how this was, and even when she got back after that long venture, even the greatest healers of her world, the Ghost Cats, could find nothing wrong with her vocal cords, she just simply could not speak. Lucky, after years of painstaking silence and having others talk for her, Dr. Reven Malof, one of the oldest Ghost Cats and her dearest friend, along with the help of his assistances were able to find another way to help her. It was hard, but eventually, it was that that had lead to the creation of her Hybrid body, her new life, her new voice, all were stronger then ever. FET smiled at the memories that came after that, but then her smile disappeared as the queasiness in her stomach got worse.

Normally, FET would never feel sick from anything, her body was immune from any bacteria or viruses that would happen to enter her body without consent. The only reason she would feel like throwing up was if she had eaten something tainted with a poison or chemical she had not encountered or whatever it was, was rotten beyond consumption. FET hadn't eaten anything in the last few hours, so the feeling of being sick raised a number of tiny red waving flags. Why did she feel ill to the stomach? Struggling to stand, her legs slightly shaking from the running she had to do in the last few days, plus being low on blood in her circulatory system, she attempted to stagger to the edge of the building just in case. She never made it, for just as she was a yard from the edge, a wave of nausea hit FET hard in the back of the neck and an acidic foul taste coated the back of her throat. Topping onto her hands and knees, she vomited, rusty red blood that tasted strange and bits of what looked like beef jerky stained the cold grey stone of the concrete roof. Ughh… this was disgusting, not the most revolting thing FET had ever seen, but it was still icky, and it just kept coming up in spurts, the pool of vomit getting bigger and bigger. She didn't fight this natural reaction though, she knew if it was coming up to say hello again, it was coming up for a good reason. From what she could tell, FET guessed it was just the beef jerky that had made her sick, it had past it's expiration date, hadn't it? Yes, now that she remembered, it had tasted weird, so it must have been bad jerky and she hadn't digested it properly, and perhaps because the Survivors had taken pills and not her, they didn't get sick…. Never before had she been so wrong.

As her stomach began to feel better, meaning it was nearly empty of the contaminates that were festering there, a final wave of nausea came, and as the last of her bile began to trickle out of her gaping, blood stained mouth, FET felt something solid climbing up her esophagus before she felt it get jammed just at the area where the Hunter had torn her throat out. What was this? FET coughed and gagged, trying to dislodge the unknown item, but it was stuck, wouldn't move a bit and only got her the familiar prickling feeling. It was a good thing FET didn't need to breath, or she would have been chocking at that moment. But she still needed to get this thing or whatever it was out. Finally, after forcefully hacking wasn't getting her anywhere, out of desperation, she brought her hand, still stained copper from the night before, up to her mouth and ever so carefully, removed the solid with her index and middle fingers. She let out a sigh a relief, liking the feeling of having air flow through her lungs again, and with a sense of triumph, looked at the sticky object in her hand.

A few short seconds passed as she tried to register what she was looking at, and when she did, FET did a double take and dropped it, watching the bony digested remains of a human thumb fall with a viscous gooey splash into the blood and jerky vomit. Jerky… FET shook her head in realization, laughing a bit at the irony of it all. That wasn't jerky that was lying in that pool of sick, It was flesh, pale rotting zombie flesh, and the blood wasn't her own as she had thought at first, but of the infected she had killed, and now only realized, eaten. The shocked girl scooted away from the pool of stinking carnage, the memories she didn't see of last night now coming in clear as if on a reel of film. So this was what she had missed while she had pulled back from the harsh reality, this is what she had done in her rage. No wonder the Survivors had looked as they did, so utterly appalled, FET was appalled herself. Why had she done that?

A feeling of self-hatred overwhelmed her senses and FET gave herself a mental slap in the face. Why couldn't she have kept her self control and wait for the Survivors to save her? Why did that Hunter have to go for the jugular and then try to eat it? Why did that Smoker and Boomer have to attack at that moment? Why did any of that had to happen? AND WHY THE HELL DID SHE UTTER THOSE FIVE UNLUCKY JINX BEARING WORDS IN THE SANCITITY OF HER MIND! FET wished she could rewrite the events of yesterday. It was possible, but FET knew it would be illegal and very unwise to do so, besides, everything happens for a reason.

The taste of bile still lingered on her tongue, causing FET to grimace more, scrunching her face as far as it could go. She whipped off most of the bad flavor on the cleanest part of her left sleeve. Speaking of which, her cloths were now tinted a shade of brown from dried blood on her sleeves, pants, and a bit around her collar. Plus she smelled like rancid meat, which is not a good thing to smell like in a zombie world. Perhaps she should clean up. Before she did however, she noted that it was best not to go around as something that looked like it had just popped out of a horror film. With a quick flash of whitish blue and a rearrangement of DNA and atoms, a now normal human looking FET stretched, cracked various joints to limber up, and went to go find a working hose.