I smirked as I watched the two Hunters pouncing on each other and roughhousing. "For a pair of mutated infected, you two are pretty chill." I sighed, remembering how I'd lost my only company, a rather young and peppy golden retriever, to a Charger a few days back. Jack was his name, and he'd been my Apocalypse Buddy for nearly a month since this infection started getting a foothold in the world. Stupid brutes, can't they look before they charge?

Suddenly, cries of pain and wails of sorrow filled the air as the rain began to pour. And the said cries and wails turned my blood to ice.

I slowly turned back around, as the sound had come from right behind me.

And standing in the doorway to the balcony I was on, was a small teenage girl, maybe a few years over my age, that'd obviously been infected and her fingers had mutated into long talons. A Witch, and she was staring at me with growls coming from deep in her throat, almost animalistic.

I knew from experience that these mutants were only hostile if provoked. Maybe I could simply slide away and escape with a full body.

And then a Tank ruined that plan by barreling up the stairs and shocking the Witch, who'd been right in front of the stairway.

With a huge crash, the Tank sent both me and the Witch tumbling off the balcony and into the street below, where I was immediately noticed by the Hunters.

I kept to the dirty concrete, even as the Tank regained it's footing and saw me. Maybe I could pretend to be dead and they'd leave.

'NOPE!!!' was my only thought as the burly mutant charged toward me with inhuman speed.

I rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the combined attack of the Hunters and the Tank. But unfortunately for me and my survival, directly into the curled up wailing girl.

With a shriek that made my ear ring and bleed, she burst up from the ground with jumping power that left a crack in the solid concrete. She landed on the back of the Tabk and severed it's head from the gigantic shoulders with one slash.

Unfortunately for me, again, the two of them decided they'd stand no chance against a Witch so they ran with their tails between their legs. Figuratively, of course.

And that left me and the Witch. And one of us doesn't have a hyper-athletic body with razor sharp talons. Place your bets now!

The Witch glared at me from the top of the hulking mass of flesh and muscles with those piercing red eyes. Almost as if she was deciding me fate.

I shut my eyes and put my hands in front of my face as a last ditch effort as I saw her leapt into the air. I knew these were my last thoughts, and for some reason, I only thought of my dead buddy, Jack and his furry, golden, and friendly companionship. I heard the Witch's feet hit the puddle I was laying in and I drew a sharp breath, anxious for the fate in store for me.

But instead of a sound of shrieking or the pain from a behading, I felt arms around me and heard the sound of droplets hitting the puddle.

I dared to glance up and found the Witch, maybe the most dangerous mutant, embracing me in a oddly warm hug and burying her head into my shoulder. And I could feel tears begining to soak my shoulder through the cloth jacket I was wearing.

I began to unconsciously go through my memories of Witches and their behaviors. More importantly, their hostility. They only attack when provoked, so many people think them to be benign or passive. But it's more like a pet bear. You stop feeding it drugged meat or you poke it too much, you're as good as dead. But I've never heard of a Witch actually touching someone and that someone still being alive. Unless it's a clever trick, maybe it is a trick from evolution to fool unexpected survivors into believing they are passive.

And all the while my brain was cycling through theories and sometimes unrelated or useless information, such as how comforting the Wotch's embrace was, my right hand was slowly stroking the Witch's hair. My survival instincts are shit, lemme tell ya'.

And through all that confusion and theorizing, I only came up with, 'I'm doomed.'

But even as seconds turned into minutes, and eventually the rain had stopped hours later, I was still alive and being embraced by the Witch.

A whimpering voice spoke in my ear, "It's been so long..." And then the Witch completely collapsed into cries and wailing.

Thanks to the ear that was directly over her face, which I'm pretty sure was deaf now, I could bear the wailing and cries.

Then I began to notice the small features on her face. Beyond the scars and scratches, I saw a face I'd not seen in years. And didn't ever expect to see again.

The Witch I was holding in my arms now, the same Wicth who beheaded a Tank, which usually takes it's namesake to kill, was my childhood friend I'd left behind when I'd moved away years ago.

I choked back a sob, "L...lanes? Is it really you?"

My only affirmation was a slight nod.

I felt either my sanity snap, or my anger at myself reach the limit. If I hadn't left Brooks five years ago when we were only children, I would've been here and been able to keep her safe. I wanted to reverse time and be the one to get infected instead, either that or die saving her.

Laney, or Lanes as I call her, is a girl I'd grown up with. She used to be so friendly with everyone she met. She was the girl in class you'd expect to have boys clamouring to be with her. But each guy she met she turned down with haste. Her only words she said to the was, 'I have someone in mind already. But we can be friends, though.' And thanks to me, she'd never be able to see that person again. And maybe, she had accidentally killed said person.

Lanes dug her head deeper into my shoulder and cried harder, "Wha... what's happened to me... I'm a monster..." She sank her talons into my back, not threateningly, but painfully.

"Ow ow ow. Those claws hurt." I growled, unintentionally making Lanes cry harder. 'Fuck.' I thought to myself.

Lanes immediately relaxed her hand, allowing the talons to stop tearing into my back. "I'm sorry."

I heard the roaring of a incoming horde and I began to think on how to get indoors and in a safe room somewhere. I managed to pry my left arm out from under the Tank's massive body and slid it carefully under her legs. "Look, you might be invulnerable to those beasts, but I'm not. I need to get inside, now."

Laney cried out in surprise as I slowly lifted her, bridal-style, off the ground. "No! Leave me here! I might hurt-"

"You won't. I'd be dead if you would." I interrupted her. "I don't know how you're able to recognize me and not be consumed by the bloodthirst, but I don't really care." I took a slow step toward the safe house I'd been living in for the past few weeks, not struggling a single bit carrying the tiny mutant in my arms.

Laney's cries had turned into more of a whimper and her wails had completely ceased. But I could tell she was still sad, maybe it's because something had happened recently.

I've contemplated the psychology of the various mutants for a while now. The Hunters are much like squirrels or puppies. The Chargers are simply brutes. Smokers are like the trappers of the infected hordes. Spitters and Boomers are much like the beacons that lead the common infected to survivors. And Witches are the odd ones out, Tanks being quite like Chargers but with brains. They don't actively hunt survivors, nor do they seem to enjoy killing the survivors they do encounter. And the wailing and crying only begins when the Witch has killed a person, almost like they know what they've done. Maybe Witches are like a partial infection. Or maybe a infected who's been left with a small sliver of humanity, which is dark considering the humanity is forced to watch as the animalistic fragments take over and kill any survivor.

Either way, I made it into the safe house and laid the Witch down on Jack's old cot I'd been too guilt-striken to take down. But she didn't want to let her arms slip off of me, almost like the clingy girl I'd known all those years ago.

I decided to just let her cling to me as I slept, mainly because if I accidentally triggered her animalistic side, I'd be ribbons and bone. I decided to sleep on a bench, careful to keep a axe near me in case of you know.

But as I slowly drifted off with Laney around my shoulder and neck, I felt a painful sensation across my face as I realized it had all been a fever dream and I was standing on the balcony with the Witch tearing my body apart.