Chapter 4: Heaven/ Innocence
Wolfee's only clear moment was when his eyes and legs stopped burning and causing him pain. He looked around to realize that he was in a safe house, a safe house that War Time created. The only other bigger shock was the fact that he discovered he was in a bathtub being washed by Star.
Why why why? Why in the world are you doing? Can't you see? Smell? Get away. Get away Get away get away! Sorry sorry. Don't get angry. No angry smell, happy smell, no tears. Nonono. Wait. What the hell is happening to me? Please please please. Let me die. No! Tears tears tears bad tears sad smell. Bad bad bad. Smile please? Please please please? Love you, no sad smell. Salt smell bad on you. Bad bad bad. Oh God, help me.
It's alright my Wolf. You're safe." Wolfee looked at her in the dim light, astonished at how clearly he could see her. His hands, no longer bound, shakily stroked her cheek. "It's alright..." The tears that came from Star seemed to glow with fading reddish light. It showed strongly in his love, haloing her with a fine light ring. "I'm sick." Wolfee croaked out, winching when it came out in a growl. Star smiled weakly at him as she began to wash his face. "I know."
Wolfee suddenly dragged Star to him, holding her as she broke down into tears. He smelled her clean hair, enjoying her scent as she cried out her frustration into his chest. "Love you." Was all he whispered before getting out of the tube quickly, fearing the tensing of his muscles. Star jumped out after him. "Wolf! Wait!"
No no no no. Can't stop. Pain is coming. Pain pain pain pain. Hurting pain, sick pain. I won't be myself soon. I don't want you to see. Love you love you love you. No sad smell, no tears. Why the hell did you untie me Star! Where is my stuff? It's too bright! Too fucking bright! Where where where? Star! Star, my Star, mine. No! What are you doing! Get away! Get the hell away! No, don't. No….sad smell. Sorry sorry sorry. Fell sick. Sick sick sick. Pain's coming. Don't cry. Remember? Love you, no matter what. Don't cry. Don't cry. Sorry. Sorry. I wasn't strong enough. Forgive me…..
Locking the door only muffled Star's screams. She sounded angry and sad. But only the sound made an impact as the pain rippled through him. The changes beginning again.
To anyone else who saw a transformation before, it was an eerie sight. To watch a person crumble into themselves as inhuman sounds crawled out of their mouths. The futile rocking was the only sign as nails dropped from bloodied fingers one by one, changing, shifting. Replacing the flimsy material with something stronger, harder. Claws, made of elongated bone. The startled screams as the claws ripped out of the fingers, sliding into place as the fingers and hands shifted slightly to make maximum use of the newly formed additions.
The teeth went next, slowly loosening from bleeding gums only to fall out one by one. Blood was coughed up as well as the pearly whites. Silence or garbled prayers was the intermediate sound between each tooth wrenching cough. Moans filled the room before the person began to seizure. Body snapping this way and that as the virus took over each little trait and made it stronger or weaker. Taking the adoptions that made humanity what is was and stripped them. Made them raw. Memories would flash quickly, strengthening the intensity of emotions. Happy, Sad, Surprise, Curious, Content, Hunting, Angry, Hurt, Protective, Wanting.
The collision of the mind and body's changes would crash the person, fogging their minds under pain and indescribable anger. Their body would still then, only allowing a shallow breath from the slowed body. As the body would try to rid itself of toxins and trash, the victim would sleep.
When they would wake up, their new lives would begin. For those who have watched the virus change a person into the "Infected" it would be described as being possessed. Others would claim it was shedding the skin. Each transformation would finalize its changes in its victim's sleep. Only then would the survivors know which group the poor soul was forced to join.
In the streets of a once populated metropolis, where the dead and the sick had free reign of the streets, two young women witness one of these rare transformations. While others would load a shotgun to kill the sleeping individual or pack and leave as soon as possible. Two young women, known to each other by only nicknames and blood tainted days, opened the door to the sleeping person's room with a stubborn task ahead of them.
They were going to clean and tame a Hunter, a special infected, until he could function with his regained humanity. They knew that to anyone watching, this was a madman's idea.
But the sleeping look of peace on Wolf's face spurned them on, allowing a child-like innocence hope to take place. To them it as the hope that the transformation did not rend and tear into the person they knew. Only bury him deeply in the fog of pain and changed senses.